


The Serpent and the Otter

by Mirue



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Eventual Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Plot, Romance, Rough Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2018-11-19
Packaged: 2019-08-02 14:41:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 34,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16307123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mirue/pseuds/Mirue
Summary: Hermione Granger has returned to finish her last year of education as Head Girl, what she did not expect was to find Draco Malfoy as Head Boy. This takes place after the Wizarding War where Voldemort was defeated.





	1. All Aboard the Hogwarts Express

“Look, it’s Hermione Granger!”

All aboard the Hogwarts Express, students were pushing one another as they gawked at Hermione Granger, war heroine. Hermione fidgeted as she nervously kept her head down and tucked a stray strand of wild brown hair behind her ear. She was making her way through to the Head Boy and Girl compartment on the train. Coming back to finish her education after the war had been a no brainer for her. What she hadn’t anticipated was the amount of commotion people would make at the sight of her. After all, she had simply assisted Harry and not Harry himself.

After the war, Harry had been put straight into the aurors department and of course, Ron had followed suit. Hermione felt a pang as she thought of them. Ron had knew his place was to be beside Harry but where did she fit in? She had to find her own person and forever be following them around. Hogwarts had seemed like an easy answer to it all her questions. Finishing her schooling was the first step to building a solid foundation for any knowledge.

Finally she reached the door to her compartment, Hermione went inside. To her relief, it was empty. It was a nice relief from all the stares and whispers. More spacious and luxurious than the regular student compartment, this one held sofas and soft cream curtains. She moved forward to take a seat when the door opened again. Her eyes dart over to the entrance as a tall, blonde in Slytherine green moved in.

“You!” She snarled as she leaped over, wand drawn and pointed at his neck.

“Me,” Malfoy drawled, not the least concern. His light grey eyes narrowed at Hermione as he took steps towards her, forcing Hermione against the wall.

“Don’t come any closer or I’ll…”

“You’ll what? Kill me?”

Hermione stuttered. She didn’t actually know what she’d do. All she knew was that the sight of Malfoy brought back all the memories that she wanted to move past. 

“Well? Cat got your tongue for once?”

Hermione gasp as she felt the wall behind her but Malfoy didn’t stop. He didn’t stop all the way until she could feel the warmth of his breath on her face, their bodies practically touching, and the tips of his shoes meeting hers. Suddenly his arm whipped our and pinned her wanded arm over her head. Hermione winced at the pain. She glared at him and struggled to pull her arm free. 

“I’m not a criminal. I’m Head Boy.” He jabbed his thumb at the badge pinned on his chest. “So get off your high and mighty horse and accept it.” He nose was practically touching hers now and Hermione turned her head in discomfort. Despite her initial reaction of anger, she was keenly aware of Malfoy now. His body towered over her, the large hand at her wrist, the masculine scent of pine and cedarwood, the pale jade of his eyes, and the warmth of him. Her cheeks were flaming and her heart was racing. She had spent the last summer, almost entirely alone, and she blamed that for the way her body was responding. 

“Malfoy,” she breathed out. “Let go of me.” Trying to wrench her arm free just caused further unintentional touching of his body so she froze. Her other hand press against his chest in a weak effort to push him away and to keep a little space between their bodies. She was keenly aware of how she actually wanted she lean in and touch more. 

“Oh, am I making you feel uncomfortable Granger?” he whispered, his head bending down, his breath practically grazing against the exposed area of her neck. He must be able to hear her heart now. “Well, get used to it. I’ve had plenty of practice over the last year.”

Hermione turned her head to look at him. She had underestimated how close he was and in doing so, her lips brushed against him. 

Both their eyes snapped wide in shock.


	2. Innocence

He was the first to pull away and immediately Hermione missed the physical contact. What was wrong with her? This was Malfoy. Malfoy, who has hated her from the very beginning just because of her blood status, whose father supported Voldemort who had murdered so many people… and yet who had pretended that he didn’t recognize her because he knew his crazy aunt kill Harry, Ron and her if he confirmed their identities. 

Her arm slid down awkwardly to her side. She watched him as he strode over to the sofa and threw himself down. His legs looking ridiculously long as he crossed his ankles. When he turned his sharp eyes at her, she jumped as if caught doing something embaressing. 

“Let’s not be kids anymore, Granger. After all that’s happened, I just want to get through this year properly and move on.”

Hermione walked over and sat down primly across from him, hands neatly folded on her lap. “That’s it? Let’s pretend nothing has happened and all the years you’ve bullied and insulted me?”

“I won’t make excuses for the things I’ve done as a child but I remind you, I was just a child.” He made no further effort to continue and Hermione suspect this was as close to an apology as she was going to get. She had to agree to some point that she didn’t want to argue anymore. Not now at least and she was tired, so very tired. Tired of all the fighting, all the blood and house prejudices. 

 

The lulling of the train and the splatter of rain across the windows must’ve put her to sleep because Hermione Granger woke with a jolt. For a moment she felt disoriented as she tried to remember where she was. It was dark out so they must be getting closer. What was it she was dreaming about? Her parents. Her heart clenched. She was dreaming of them again. 

She nearly jumped as she saw Malfoy watching her from almost exact same spot as before. How could she have fallen asleep without her guard like that? Her hand tightened around her wand which was still miraculously in her grasp.

“We’re almost there. You better get changed.” He said getting up.

“Do you mind going outside while I get changed?” She asked. Just remembering all the attention she had gotten making her way to this compartment made her not want to go all the way to the restrooms to get changed.

Malfoy nodded and left.

Hermione drew the curtains across the windows of the compartment. She opened her luggage and grabbed the uniform she had neatly folded at the very top. Putting her uniform on brought back memories of her first years at Hogwarts all over again. Once again she had to fight to push back the crushing feelings of how much she missed Harry and Ron. Keep busy, keep busy, she told herself. 

After she was finished, she opened the door. Malfoy was just standing on the other side. She reached out to tap his arm. “I’m all finished,” she said. He turned around and looked at her. 

 

“Let’s go gather the prefects and get ready to lead the first years to the boats.”

She nodded and followed him.

 

The first years looked incredibly young and wide-eyed. They stared at Hermione with awe. Some of them asked her questions about Harry and Voldemort but mostly Hermione tried not to make eye contact. I was once like them, she thought. How long and very far away that seemed now. 

“First years, first years!”

“Hagrid!” She was delighted to see his tall looming figure holding a lantern outside waiting for them. She launched a hug at her dear friend. The only one that seemed familiar.

“Hermione!” Hagrid shouted and returned her hug. “Good to see you!” he grinned. “I’ll take these little ones off your hands now”. As he led the little ones away towards the castle, Hermione stood there watching them go.

“Let’s go Granger”, Malfoy said. He strode towards the carriages. Hermione quicken her pace to catch up. How very strange it was to be back at Hogwarts. It was the place she had known as safe and also the place where a battle had taken so many lives. 

Malfoy gracefully lifted himself into the carriage and reached out a hand to help her on. Hermione blushed at the contact of their hands. Despite the strangeness of everything, his strong hand felt familiar even though it shouldn’t. She would have expected him to let go as she was getting on, just to see her fall down again. But he didn’t. She snatched her hand back once she got on. 

Sitting down next to him, she couldn’t help but beware of how close their thighs were. Once the carriage started to move, they occasionally brushed. Every time they touched, Hermione couldn’t help but freeze stiffly while Draco looked as if he couldn't give a care in the world. Neither of them bothered moving away and they rode in silence for a few minutes before she said, “I agree, let’s get through this year on a truce. We’ll be seeing a lot of each other as Heads and I’d rather not waste all my energy bickering with you”.

Malfoy didn’t respond for a moment. Then he nodded, “Glad to see you’re coming around”. When he turned his intense gaze on her, Hermione looked away. His gaze felt too strong, it was as if he could see into her thoughts. It was natural that everyone grew up after being in a war, but Malfoy seemed to have aged the most. He was clearly no longer the arrogant boy who glared at everything as if they were unwanted dust on his new shoes. It felt similar to how Harry had been after first witnessing the death of Cedric Diggory, and then again and more pronounced after the loss of Sirius. Hermione felt a pang of guilt as she thought of Lucius Malfoy. He had been tried and sentenced to Azkaban for his involvement and support of Voldemort. She had been part of the group who testified. Although it was the right thing to do, Hermione couldn’t help but feel guilty. She knew the pain of being separated from parents. Her own couldn’t even remember her at all now.


	3. Glances

By the end of the ride, their thighs were pressing right against each other and neither said a word, just as the topic of their accidental kiss was not brought up. There was a sense of comfort they both gave each other in this strange time and place. Hogwarts was home and yet not home. Just like no one else around will know or experience the horrors that they both have shared in growing up together.

Hermione couldn’t explain the pull that Malfoy was giving her. She blamed it on her loneliness. That must be it. When he grabbed her waist to lift her off the carriage, she deliberately pressed her body against his for a few more seconds than necessary. Hopefully he wouldn’t notice that it was all on purpose. He felt so solid, strong, and just plain old good. When his gaze paused on her face suspiciously after he let go of her, she looked away and kept her head high as if nothing was out of the ordinary. 

They lead the way up to the castle and into the grand hall. Everything had been repaired and it was as if no battle ever happened here. Hermione couldn’t shake the feeling of disconnect again. People had died here. Fred had died here. Her jaws clenched as she gripped her wand tight and close. 

Without a word to each other, Malfoy and Hermione made their way to their respective house tables. 

“Hermione!”

Hermione looked over to see Ginny settle down next to her. “Hey Ginny,” she said with all the brightness she could muster.

“I didn’t see you on the train earlier,” Ginny said with concern written all over her face.

“Oh, I fell asleep on the ride here in the Heads compartment” Hermione said, hoping that Ginny won’t keep questioning. The last thing she wanted to do was explain how she had fallen asleep in the same room as Malfoy. It may have been perfectly innocent but it certainly wouldn’t sound innocent. 

“So Malfoy’s Head Boy?”

“Yeah” Hermione’s eyes dart over to the Slytherine table where Malfoy sat. He was surrounded by younger Slytherines. 

“If he tries anything, you let me know. I won’t let him get away with anything” Ginny declared fiercely.

“Thanks Ginny but I can take care of myself. Brightest witch of my year remember?” Hermione teased, giving Ginny a nudge with her shoulder. She was grateful that Ginny was her friend, but also awkwardly aware of the part of her that didn’t want to be too closed simply because Ginny was Ron’s sister. She felt guilty for how she felt but it was still how she felt. The Weasleys had been almost like family to her and naturally everyone had assumed that she and Ron would get together in the end, making it official. But that didn’t happen. Now it was just plain awkward. 

As a number of Ginny’s friends arrived and sat down beside her, Ginny’s attention was taken off Hermione. Hermione continue to observed Malfoy. He rested his chin on his hand staring towards the teacher’s table as if nothing the people around him offered interested him. 

Malfoy had certainly grown into his features. He’d become more attractive with the years and probably would continue to age handsomely. Hermione’s eyes lingered on his generous lips. She could still remember how soft they felt brushing hers. She blushed as he suddenly turned his head and looked straight at her, giving her a smirk. It was as if he knew exactly what she was thinking. 

She didn’t miss the way his eyes dipped down to her lips either.


	4. After Midnight Advances

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Hermione said, staring dumbstruck at McGonagall. 

“I certainly am not and do not kid, Ms. Granger!” Headmistress McGonagall replied shrilly standing up even straighter, towering over Hermione. They were standing right before a painting of three little cherubs on the 6th floor the South Wing. 

“So you’re saying that the Heads just cohabitate!” Hermione continued, incredulous at the news that was just broken to her. “But that’s just indecent!”

“For goodness sake, Ms. Granger. You have separate rooms! I’m not asking that you share a bed! The Head Boy and Girl must be able to patrol and call upon each other for support should there be need. Surely, you can be mature enough to behave like adults!” Hermione could see that McGonagall was basically trying to go around the fact that this allowed for two students of the opposite sex to live together. Her and Malfoy, in close quarters. Behaving like adults was exactly what she was worried about, especially given all the strange little advances she’s taken on him today. It left her mind spinning. She was already imagining Malfoy, with his delectable lips, sauntering around with just a towel hanging around his hips. Hermione shook her head to clear the image. What was wrong with her? The cohabitation of Head Girl and Head Boy was never mentioned in Hogwarts: A History, she thought indignantly.

“Also, your room will require a second password to enter. Should Mr. Malfoy attempt to break in, he will sorely regret his actions.” McGonagall then reached out her hand and ticked each of the cherubs’ stomach. The cherubs giggled and shot little bubbled hearts at the wall next to the painting. An old wooden door magically appeared. McGonagall waved her wand and the door opened. They climbed through and entered what appears to be a modest bedroom with a single four-poster bed, wooden desk, and wardrobe. Through the window, the moon could be seen reflecting off the Great Lake. All the sheets and curtains were decorated in Gryffindor colours and finally, Hermione felt at home. Red and gold… the colour of her childhood. 

“This door will lead you to the Common Room that you’ll be sharing with Mr. Malfoy. I should think it’s a privilege to have your own private quarters when all the other students must share.” McGonagall stood by the cream colour door that was adjacent to the plain wooden one in which they entered. “Well I must get going. I leave this for you and Mr. Malfoy to sort out!”

“Good night, Headmistress.” 

“And the same to you, Ms. Granger.” McGonagall replied, an expression somewhere between pity and sadness flitted across her normally stern face. She went back through the wooden door and Hermione was once again alone.

***

It must’ve been well over midnight but Hermione could not fall asleep. She blamed it on the nap she had on the way over but she knew that she also didn’t enjoy falling asleep. Sleep was where Bellatrix’s maniacal face haunted her and the memory of the tearing pain of the cruciatus curse would hit her again. It was also where she would see her parents’ faces laughing, staring at her, and not having a single clue who she was or Ron… Ron with his easy smile and dorky ways being held from behind by another girl. 

She stood up and decided it was time to explore the Common Room. By now Malfoy couldn’t possibly still be awake. She slowly opened the cream coloured door and paused when she spotted the blonde figure in the room.

“Are you just going to stand there, Granger?” Malfoy’s deep voice sent Hermione tingles.

Hermione nervously moved into the Common Room. Malfoy was lounging on a large armchair by a roaring fireplace, a book clasped in his hands and his feet propped up on a small ottoman. “Well, this is cozy” she remarked, her eyes raking over the sight of Malfoy’s silk blue pajamas. She walked towards the bookself, trying her best to casually inspect the decent sized common room. Decorated in gold and accented with green, the room was very much meant for the two houses to unite without being obvious. Her hands skimmed along the beat up spines of books. Books had always given her comfort and courage but right now they were doing nothing for her. She could feel her heart going faster simply by being so aware of Malfoy’s presence. 

Dammit, Malfoy you’re distracting me so much I can‘t even appreciate theses books, she thought. 

“Definitely beats sharing a room with three very loud, stinky boys” Malfoy said casually, resuming his reading. “Unless you’re actually a closet pig and plan to create a bigger mess than three teenage boys combined.” Hermione could hear the tilting tease in his voice and blushed.

“I assure you, I also enjoy a nice clean living space,” Hermione replied. Yes, the topic of cleanliness was a safe one. 

“Could you pass me Theoretical Magic Through Ancient Runes? It’s the green one to your top left.”

Hermione scanned the shelf for the one Malfoy requested and spotted it on the upper shelf. She tiptoed to reach for it but even then managed to just skim the bottom with her fingertips.

“For someone who’s been essential to preserving the life of the Idiot Who Lived, I swear you forget you’re magic.” Malfoy strode over behind her, his arm reaching over hers, easily grabbing the book.

Hermione froze once again in mid tiptoe with her arm still outstretched. He was so close again. She could swear that Malfoy had just tricked her just to get her into this position. Her sense were usually never wrong. She leaned back, her body making full contact with his. It was his turn to freeze now. Relishing the feel of his body against her backside, a little moan escaped Hermione’s lips. 

“What are you playing at?” Malfoy whispered. She heard the book drop from his hand. One hand wrapped around her waist while the other covered her outstretched hand. 

Hermione had barely a chance to think because the next thing she knew, his lips were running kisses up and down her neck. “Malfoy”, she moaned, her eyes closed with pleasure and her neck arching to give him more skin. His kisses were hot and rushed. They were hungry like a starved man’s sight of his first meal in a long, long time. Her free hand reached back to touch any part of him that she could. She grabbed hold of the hem of his silk top. 

Through the sheerness of her nightgown and his silk pajama pants, she could feel that he was aroused. His hand left her hip and drift down. She felt a thrill of excitement as it slid up her bare thigh. The air warmed from the burning fireplace grazing her skin at the same time. She could think of nothing but the unfamiliar ache between her legs and eagerness of his tongue. Her hand fumbled blindly behind her, reaching under his shirt to graze his abdomen, lowering, searching – his hand whipped out and grabbed hers before she met her goal.

Her eyes snapped open. “No further,” he groaned against her ear. “No further unless you plan to finish what you start, Granger.” His pulled away from her and Hermione stared after him as he stalked across the room to his bedroom. When the door slammed shut behind him, Hermione felt terribly confused. She pulled up her neckline to cover her exposed skin and hurriedly withdrew to her bedroom. She sank down on her bed and stared at the ceiling, her fingers brushing the skin where his lips had been. It wasn’t until the sun was about to come up that exhaustion took over and she drifted off to sleep. Her usual nightmares were replaced with greedy and lusty dreams of a chiseled blonde Slytherin.


	5. When in Doubt

When in doubt, go to the library – and Hermione Granger had lots of doubts, mainly about herself right now.

Waking up late that morning, she had missed breakfast and barely made it to Herbology in time. This earned her a stern look from Professor Sprouts, who made a point to pull her aside after class to remind Hermione that as Head Girl she really should set a better example for the younger students. Hermione felt flustered. She had never gotten in trouble as a student before and after going through so much, she was surprised that although a bit abashed, she didn’t take the scolding to heart. What she did take to heart was the bored look Malfoy gave her when she came in late and how he avoided eye contact with her the rest of the lesson. 

Hermione recognized numerous classmates from her own year who had returned, including Neville, and it was an odd class where there was also a mixture of students from one year lower, such as Ginny. It also felt odd not see the same people she had gone to school with for six years. Some people had chose to not come back like Harry and Ron and some had been casualties in the war, like Lavender Brown. 

After class ended, Hermione rushed to the Library. As she had suspected, it was virtually empty. No one thought it was necessary to study when classes were barely just starting but Hermione disagreed. Reading, writing, and analyzing theories and books were best done before the classes began. It prepared the mind to really get a chance to understand the things to be learnt that year. It also provided a familiar distraction from her thoughts on Malfoy. 

In the midst of going over notes, Hermione touched her neck where Malfoy’s mouth had been the night before. It almost felt like a dream, the surrealness of the experience. “No further unless you plan to finish what you start,” he had said. She blushed as the memory replayed over and over in her head. She was more than grateful that no one else was in the library to witness her right now. Was she going to finish what she had started? Hermione shook her head at the ridiculousness of what she was considering. 

On the note of the younger students, the whispers and pointing continued everywhere she went and so she made a mental note to owl Harry for his invisibility cloak. If she was going to survive this year, she needed freedom.  
Feeling her stomach rumble, Hermione packed up her books and left the library. It was already pass lunch, so she made her way to the kitchen. Turning down the corridors, she noticed a group of five boys circling one person with their wands all drawn looking tense. She strode down, recognizing Malfoy in the middle surrounded by fresh-faced Gryffindor boys. It seemed like a one way conversation as the boys kept shouting at Malfoy and he wasn’t responding. Then suddenly the boys raised their wands. 

“Protego!” Hermione shot the spell towards Malfoy. The hexes and curses aimed at him deflected. 

Her magic singed in her blood. After using magic almost constantly the year prior and not having any of that in the last few months, Hermione felt alive again. 

“What is going on here?” she demanded angrily looking at the boys. They looked young, maybe in their fourth or fifth years. 

“Why are you protecting him?” One of the boys demanded angrily. His brown eyes showing more fury than Hermione was comfortable with. “His father gave money to support You-Know-Who. He shouldn’t even be allowed here!”

“He should be in Azkaban! He’s a deatheater!” Another boy shouted.

“My aunt was murdered! This son of a toad – “ the third boy threw down his wand and suddenly launched at Malfoy, his fist coming into contact with Malfoy’s nose. Blood began gushing all over Malfoy’s face and he looked murderous.

“Levicorpus!” Hermione’s jinx hoisted the boy upside down into the air before any more actions could be taken by him and also keeping him out of Malfoy’s reach. He looked like he was going to strangle the boy even while his nose was spraying blood everywhere. “Fifty points from Gryffindor,” she snapped, glaring at all five of the students. 

“But school hasn’t even began!”

“We’ll start from a deficit. This is your own house!”

“I know first handed what the war has done and it’s not something you boys can demand justice through cornering Malfoy – “ Hermione’s attention snapped to Malfoy who was starting to walk away, hand on nose, leaving a trail of blood behind him. “Malfoy wait!” she called after him. “You go to classes now. I’ll make sure Professor McGonagall hears of this” She glared at the boys. Waving her wand slowly, she let the boy down. He was starting to turn red in the face. The four other boys crowded around their friend to make sure he was okay. 

Hermione ran after Malfoy. “Malfoy, let me fix that for you,” her hand reached out to grab hold of his arm.

He turned around to look at her. Blood was all over his face and the front of his robe now. “No thanks Granger. I didn’t need your help back there and I don’t need it now.” Hermione stilled at the coldness of his voice and eyes. Haltering in her step, she let Malfoy walk away. 

***

It wasn’t until it was time for patrols that Hermione saw Malfoy again. He was leaning against the wall watching her come towards him. Hermione shivered under his gaze. She felt her body ache traitorously as her eyes swept over his lean form. The dim lighting from the torches cast shadows on his already chiseled face. What was once a little sharp ferret boy came back as a man. There was no doubt about it. Still somewhat upset about his coldness earlier, Hermione didn’t greet him and they began their round walking briskly in silence. 

Hogwarts at night was startling different from Hogwarts in the day. From her days of sneaking around with Harry, Hermione was familiar with how quiet and silent it could be. However walking around with nothing to hide gave a different feeling from how it was sneaking under the invisibility cloak. If Malfoy had not been there, it would have been quite liberating, Hermione thought. 

Since his legs were obviously longer than hers, Hermione had to walk extra fast to keep up. She refused to lag behind him. It wasn’t until they’ve reached the Great Lake that Malfoy stopped suddenly. Hermione bumped against his back. 

He turned around and faced her. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate your interference but these are fights I must win myself,” he blurted out, staring down at her. 

Hermione looked up at him, one hand massaging her throbbing forehead that had banged on his back. She was partially confused as never in a million had she thought she’d find herself in a situation where Malfoy, Malfoy of all people, would explain his actions. “They’re just boys. They don’t know anything,” she replied softly.

“I was just a boy. I didn’t know anything back then. I was told and raised to believe something all my life.” Malfoy looked angry. “I’m not proud of my family or my actions but no one came out of this war innocent. We all lost something.” Every word looked like it was being pulled out painfully. 

Hermione couldn’t help notice the bitterness in his voice. She felt her heart tightening yet she didn’t know what to say. She just knew that she wanted to make Malfoy feel better. She reached up with her hand and cupped Malfoy’s cheek, her thumb brushing over his smooth cheekbone. Shock flickered in his eyes and he froze. “I don’t blame nor hate you, Malfoy. You could’ve sold us out to your aunt that night and Harry’s told me how your mother lied to Voldemort about him being dead. You’re human and I know there’s goodness in you,” Hermione said. His words, the genuine way they came out, hit a cord of connection within her and for the first time in a long time, she didn’t feel alone in the world. 

Standing on tiptoes, she reached her other hand around his neck and placed her lips on his. At first Malfoy did not move and Hermione almost regret her actions. When she was about to pull away, she felt his arms wrap around her waist pulling her flush against him. Malfoy deepened the kiss, his tongue teasing her lips apart and Hermione let him in.

Hermione Granger had been kissed before but it had never felt like this. It had never felt like she was being lit up from this inside or that a greedy and achey creature would emerge from her core. Malfoy’s lips were soft against hers, his tongue ravished her mouth as if she was a delicious peach and Hermione responded just as eagerly and hungrily. She gently sucked on his bottom lip and then his top lip, her tongue flickering against his. Both of her arms wrap around his neck, holding him as close as possible. Kissing Malfoy was like riding a wave. She felt the danger, exhilaration, and liberation all at once. She felt alive. 

“Granger,” he groaned against her lips when they finally pulled apart to breathe ragged breaths.

“Hermione. My name is Hermione,” Hermione looked up into Malfoy’s eyes. She could see he was conflicted. 

“Hermione,” he repeated as if tasting her name on his lips. It felt like the most delicious sound to her ears.

“Took you enough years to say my name,” Hermione teased, a small smile on her face. It might be a long time until Malfoy let his guard down but she didn’t care. What mattered was, at this moment, there was peace between them. If he was able to make her feel alive again, she didn’t want to let go.


	6. Expecto Patronum

“Expecto patronum,” A silvery otter shot out of Hermione’s wand and bounced playfully across the reflective surface of the Great Lake. 

Malfoy looked at her as if she was mad.

She smiled at him. “I’m happy,” she said. “I never thought there would be a day where we could be in the same place without you calling me a mudblood.”  
His hand reached out, thumb brushing over her swollen lower lip, looking somewhat regretful. “I think something’s gone wonky up in that wonder of a brain you have. It amazes me how something so small can make you happy enough to cast a patronus.”

“Did you just compliment me?” Hermione teased. Even in the dim light she could see Malfoy blush as he looked at her beneath his long, thick lashes. The corner of his mouth quirked as if a smile was trying to break free.

“Expecto patronum,” a large serpent came out of his wand and slither around playfully into lake after her otter.

Hermione laughed in delight at the sight of the two silvery creatures playing. It felt good to laugh out loud and to laugh freely. Happiness did not last forever and neither do people. She thought of her parents, Ron, and Harry and how happy she felt back then, how naïve she thought that it could last forever and how it was just all a memory now. She really did feel a lot of joy at this moment and she intended to savour every moment of it while it lasted.

The patronuses faded into waspy smoke tendrils before disappearing completely. Suddenly feeling the cold chill of the night, Hermione and Draco headed back into the castle. 

“Good night, Malfoy”, she said at the entrance of her room. 

“Night, Granger,” Malfoy replied. Hermione’s smile dropped just a little bit in her disappointment that Malfoy had reverted back to calling her by her surname. She strode across the Common Room, and pecked him on the cheek. His grey eyes widen in surprise.

“I had fun tonight,” she smiled. Before he could reply, Hermione once again quickly retreated to her bedroom. 

***

For Defense Against The Dark Arts class a new teacher had arrived yet again. They said that Voldemort had put a curse on the job when he was rejected and Hermione wondered if that same magic lived on even after his defeat. Professor Piddypumpkins, a young man, much younger than any professor Hermione has ever met, held court at the front of the classroom. He had wild brown hair that flew in all directions and wore a rumpy jumper over a pleated shirt. A short trim beard covered half his face and large, round heavy framed glasses covered the other half.

“Now that we are truly at a time of peace, I should say that it makes perfect sense that we finally learn theories.”

Hermione groaned. Not this Umbridge crap again. Her hand shot up.

“Yes, Ms. Granger?”

“I disagree, Sir. We’ve seen dark wizards come back time and time again. It would be invaluable for all of us to learn warding spells and really learn what it means to truly defend ourselves.”

Piddypumpkins stared at her, leaning back onto his desk. He laughed mockingly looking around the class. “Ms. Granger. Ms. Granger. The Dark Lord has been defeated. There’s no need to rile people up and cause panic.”

“But this is Defense Against the Dark Arts. We need to know how to defend ourselves,” Hermione insisted. 

”I believe this whole teaching kids spells to attack one another is exactly what caused a dark wizard to emerge the first time. I should hope you are more respectful than to tell me how to teach my class”.

Hermione flushed with embarressment. “I mean no disrespect Professor – “

Piddypumpkins put up his hand to silence her. “I know it must be hard, Ms.Granger, to be part of a group that saved the world, and then to return normal after such glory but it does no good continuing in that thought path. We are now in a time of peace and as such, it’s best to recognize that.”

Hermione’s jaw clenched. As much as she disagreed, she didn’t want to continue not this conversion with the whole class staring at her so she quieted down and looked down at her textbook for the reminder of the class, completely toning out whatever Piddypumpkins had to say for the rest of the class.

After a war, people would rather live a lie and believe that they could be safe forever rather than to face the truth. It was more comfortable that way. Hermione was no coward and she also had nothing to lose anymore. Given that Piddypumpkins was obviously quite young and new to teaching, she didn’t want to question his authority too much on his first day. That was a cruelty she wanted to spare him. 

When class finally ended, Hermione jumped from her seat and rush out of the class. Although she had kept silent throughout the class, she still felt anger bubbling under her chest. She needed space before she exploded and took out someone’s head, possibly Piddypumpkins’, so she headed back to her dorm.

To her disappointment, Malfoy wasn’t around. 

***

In fact, other than at meals and in potions, she didn’t see Malfoy for the next couple of weeks. Even during those times, there was usually a swarm of students in between and he always avoided eye contact. He was never in their shared common room, choosing to enter and leave through his bedroom as well as skipping patrol nights which either forced Hermione to patrol alone or with a Prefect. He was deliberately avoiding her. 

Hermione found herself standing outside his bedroom door one night after a particularly lonely and cold patrol. She pressed her lips together and resolutely knocked on his door. There was no answer and she wondered if he was just going to ignore her. She knew he was in there because she could see the light under the doorframe. After a few minutes, Malfoy finally answered the door. 

“Hello Granger,” he said, the dim lighting of the torches emphasized the dark circles under his eye. 

“I thought we’d agree that you’d call me Hermione,” Hermione said. Her traitorous heart was starting to do little rapid beats in response to being in such close proximity to Malfoy. 

“Granger, I’m not what you think I am. Just because I didn’t kill people, doesn’t mean I am one of the good guys,” he sighed, running one hand through his tousled blond hair.

“So this is what it’s about. This is what’s got you hiding in your room, running from the sight of me, acting all cowardly, because you’re afraid of being considered as good?” Hermione place her hands on her hips and glared up at him. She knew she was provoking him with her choice of words but she wanted to get some sort of response from him that’s not a resigned one because the Malfoy she had knew all her life was never resigned. 

He took the bait. A dangerous flash went through his eyes and he jerked her into his room. With the grace of a wolf, he had her pinned to his bed. Hermione was sure if her heart beat any faster, it would leave her chest. She was, all at once, enveloped with the fresh pine and cedar wood scent of Malfoy. His bed was a soft contrast to the hard body that pressed on top of her. 

His grey eyes were dark with emotion as if he was trying to keep a tight reign. “I am never a coward,” he said before bringing his lips down on her. His kiss was both demanding and hard but Hermione responded back with equal need. It felt good not being in control for once, like tumbling off a cliff and flying instead of falling. 

She moaned as his fingers caress her neck in an effort to unbutton her blouse. “Too many damn buttons,” he groaned sitting up, straddling her. With both hands, he ripped her blouse apart. Hermione’s eyes widen as buttons went flying and her bras was suddenly exposed. His hand immediately went to fondle her breast and his lips fell upon her neck, nipping and sucking. Hermione arched with pleasure. Slipping her hand behind her back, she unclasped her bra and shrugged everything off, not once breaking off lip contact. She needed to feel his hand on her bare skin. 

Hermione whimpered as his hand tightened around her breast, his thumb grazing over her nipple. His mouth soon replaced his hand and Hermione watched him with hooded eyes as his luscious lips closed around her breast. Her nails dug into his broad shoulder as she felt more need. His free hand slipped up her skirt and began caressing her upper thigh.

“Malfoy,” she moaned, arching her hips, eager to have him touch her, eager to feel the hard part of him. She made a small protest, when he unclasped from her breast. Her protest quickly died as she yelped in surprise when his hand slipped under underwear. His fingers touching her bud in slow circles. Hermione ached to have more and she pressed herself harder against his hand. 

“Malfoy,” she repeated, panting as she felt herself getting close. She pulled at his arm, her fingertips brushing the outline of his arousal through his pants. Her hand almost slipped down his waistband but he grabbed her hand and placed it back on his shoulder. 

He watched her with those beautiful grey eyes, soaking in the sight of her becoming undone. As one long finger slipped into her slippery passage, Hermione felt herself stretching wonderfully. It had been a while for her. His finger plunged in and out and when he was satisfied, he slipped another finger in. Hermione’s hand tightened around Malfoy. She was so closed now. His mouth fell back onto hers and his tongue, oh his wicked tongue, teased her, trailing little kisses down her neck and across her collarbone. All the while, his expert fingers stretching, curling, hitting her in areas she didn’t even know were so sensitive. His hand quickened the pace and Hermione came hard, her body pulsing under his, a ragged gasp escaping her mouth, and her hands gripping his body for support. 

In the aftermath of her climax, Hermione flushed shyly as if just realizing that Malfoy had watched her the whole time. He smirked and gently removed his hand from between her legs.

“You see why I avoided you now? I’ve been thinking of doing that since the train ride.”

“I hope you were hoping to do more than just this, Malfoy,” Hermione said shyly, her cheeks already flushed, heated just a little more. 

“Draco,” he said, pressing a gentle kiss on her lips. “I want to hear my name on your lips next time.”

Hermione’s heart leaped at the promise of next time.


	7. Kisses

When Hermione woke up the next day, she was momentarily confused. She had such a good sleep, one without any nightmares. Stretching and yawning, she looked around. Green surrounded her. Green curtains, green sheets, green carpet.

Her face flushed as she remembered the events of the night before. Her head swiped around quickly in panic, but there was no sign of Malfoy. She looked under the plush green comforter. Her face went red with embaressment. She was naked with only a pair of panties on. She quickly yanked the blanket up to chin. Malfoy’s scent rushed and knocked her senses a fluttering.

Hermione closed her eyes, trying to calm herself down, gripping the sheet tight in her fists. She was tempted to stay in bed and wait for Malfoy to come back. Perhaps they could go for a second round. She blushed at her wicked thoughts and mentally scolded herself.

Getting up, she opened the bedroom door just a bit and peaked outside. Malfoy was not in the Common Room. Making a mad dash, she ran all the way to her room and quickly shut the door behind her. 

***

“You looked quite refreshed today,” Ginny commented at the Great Hall, forked full of baked beans lifted to her lips.

Hermione blushed, staring hard at her orange juice, trying not to make eye contact. “Slept well,” she managed to say stiffly.

“I’m glad. You were starting to look like a walking zombie,” Neville bit in.

Hermione’s eyes roamed over the Slytherin table for Malfoy, but he was not there. Where did he go, she wondered. She quickly turned her attention to her food before her friends notice her sudden interest in the Slytherins. 

“That Piddypumpkins sure is something, hmm?” she said, trying to make conversation. For the last two weeks, Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher had been like a thorn to her side.

“I find him quite friendly,” Neville said keenly. “I can’t remember the last time I had a professor I felt comfortable enough to approach.”

“That doesn’t make what he’s teaching helpful,” Hermione bite out.

“I find his material interesting,” said Ginny staring at Hermione. “I’m learning loads, nothing practical but still good to know.”

Hermione bite her bottom lip and glowered up at the teachers’ table. Piddypumpkins was engaged in a lively conversation with Professor Tralawney. He had her blushing and laughing like a young girl. As if sensing her gaze, he looked towards her and waved his hand. 

Hermione ignored him and glared at her food. Standing up suddenly, she gathered her books. “I’m heading to the library,” she told her friends. “I’ll see you guys in class.”

“But it’s Saturday, Hermione” Neville said, concerned.

Hermione flushed.

“Are you all right, Hermione?” Ginny asked concerned.

“Yeah, I’m all right,” Hermione said. Quickly, she turned and walked away from the hall, but not before she heard Ginny say, “I better owl Harry.”

***

Instead of heading to the library as she had told her friends, Hermione found herself making a detour to the Great Lake. It was a crisp, sunny autumn day. Plopping down her bag, she rested her head on it like a pillow, and stared up into the sky and the moving clouds.

“Ms. Granger.”

With displeasure, she saw Piddypumpkins’ smug face looking down at her. “Professor, “ she said primly, sitting up and pulling the hem of her skirt over her legs. 

“Beautiful day, isn’t it?” he said smiling, looking around, sitting down without invitation.

“Yes it is,” Hermione answered, staring at the lake, refusing to look at him.

“Ms. Granger, I know that you don’t agree with my teaching methods but I hope that we can eventually come to an understanding of mutual respect.” Although what he was saying were words that made perfect sense, Hermione felt something in her recoil in recognition of something disturbing in him. 

“I must get going, Professor.” She hurried up, practically running back into castle. It wasn’t until she securely in the library, surrounded by books, hand gripping tightly to her wand, that she allowed herself to breath again. There was something not right with that man, her guts were practically screaming at her. 

***

When Hermione entered the Common Room that night, she found herself once again disappointed not to see Malfoy. She hadn’t seen him all day. She was not innocent enough to believe a few moments of passion would suddenly change the course of their relationship thus far but she had hoped that she could begin to get to know him better. Last night, he had been intently focused on giving her pleasure. It didn’t escape her notice that he didn’t get his release. It had been a startling contrast to Hermione’s previous intimate encounters where her partners usually sought their own orgasms and then left her hanging. Ron had even told her that he didn’t even think women could achieve climax, which she knew was one big fat lie. She had been able to please herself on multiple occasions. 

She had never pegged Malfoy as the generous sort but the whole encounter last night proved her wrong. 

The lights in his room were on, and the flickering of a shadow over the doorframe and shuffling of movement suggested that he was in his room. After standing in the Common Room for a few minutes, Hermione went into her own bedroom. If he had wanted her, surely he would have came out by now. 

After showering in her tiny adjoined bathroom, Hermione did a bit of light reading before falling asleep.

It was hours later that she woke up groggily at the sound of knocking on her door. Rubbing the sleepiness from her eyes, Hermione stumbled over to her door and opened it. Malfoy stood on the other side, shirtless. Hermione blinked in sleepy confusion, her eyes drifting over his lean abs before drifting to the sexy narrowing of his hips, and how dangerously low his bottoms were hanging. “Malfoy -“ she started in surprise but didn’t get to finish as he grabbed her, his mouth hard on hers, his lips demanding. His gripped her bottom as his lips slipped down her neck.

“May I come in, Hermione?” he growled against her neck.

“Yes,” Hermione moaned, her eyes closed with desire. Malfoy lifted her up, wrapping her legs around his hips. He moved in and they fell onto her bed. Hermione didn’t get a chance to register what was happening before her nightgown was lifted over here head and thrown onto the floor.

She moaned at the rough way Malfoy’s mouth was roughly tugging at her nipple. His hand was pulling her panties off. She couldn’t even register that she was fully naked in his hands now. He was lifting her leg up, his mouth trailing kisses down her body.

“Malfoy!” Hermione gasped as she realized where he was headed. 

“Draco,” he growled moving back up, nipping her lips in punishment. His fingers teasing her folds apart as his fingers plunged in. Hermione whimpered at the suddenly intrusion, pain mixing with pleasure all too soon. She bucked against his hand wanting more. Her own hand cupping his face holding him close so she could continue kissing him, her other hand slipping into his waistband and finally, finally grasping hold of his hard length. She couldn’t even wrap her hand fully around his girth and that knowledge made her ache all the more. Sliding her hand up and down his length in rhythm to his fingers, Hermione felt herself coming close, yet aching for more. “Draco, please,” she moaned, urgently bucking underneath him.

“You’re dripping, Hermione” he whispered teasingly against her lips.

“Please,” she begged, whimpering. To her distress he pulled away, sliding down body. Her legs were pulled apart and before she could protest, his mouth was on her. “Draco!” Her hands gripped his hair as he lapped at her clit, his mouth gently sucking and teasing her, before his tongue began thrusting into her. 

“You’re so damn sweet, Hermione,” he said, his voice heavy with lust and desire. He lifted her legs over his shoulders to give him more access. Hermione gripped on either side of her, not trusting herself to not draw blood from Draco with her nails. 

He started to thrust his fingers in tandem with the sucking of his lips on her clit, one finger, two fingers, three fingers, filling her, stretching her so fully. His thumb began stroking her bud in time with his tongue and mouth. Hermione couldn’t hold it in anymore. “Draco!” she screamed as she climaxed, her body shuddering with her released. Stars were shooting behind her closed eyes and her body convulsed with how hard the orgasm was hitting her. “Draco,” she sobbed, her hands so tightly clutching the sheets, she’d be surprised if nothing ripped. 

Draco rose up and settled beside her, once again pressing a chaste kiss to her lips. She could taste herself on his lips and it felt so wondrously wicked. If this was what it meant to be naughty, she never wanted to be good. He cradled her shaking body against his. Hermione’s body was in such a state that everything felt like jelly. When he attempted to pull away to slip out of bed, she didn’t even know how to she found the strength to hold on. “Stay,” she managed to say before exhaustion took over.


	8. Cotton Candy

Hermione groaned as she tossed over in bed, her body stiff from sleeping in the same position all night. A heavy weight was over her stomach. She opened her eyes. Draco. Draco Malfoy was in her bed. He was still sleeping, face turned to her with his arm swung over her stomach. Hermione tried to breathe as lightly as she could as she turned her face up towards his. With the morning light streaming in, she’s never had a better view of his face. In sleep, he looked completely beautiful, so beautiful it took her breath away. His blond hair tousled, eyes lashes so light and long, the elegant high cheekbones, the two freckles near the corner of his right eye, the slight stubble, his lips… so beautifully wicked… Hermione blushed, feeling slightly perverse in studying the details of Draco’s face. 

“Are you going to stare at me all morning, Granger?”

Hermione’s body jumped. Draco, like a sleeping dragon, slowly opened his eyes to look at her. His eyes, so grey and light, were like quartz in the morning light. Hermione had always assumed they were nondescript but up close, they amazed her with the depth and shine. 

“Morning,” she mumbled, face flushing at being caught so red handedly. She was slightly confused at the disappointment she felt when he lifted his arm off of her. Draco stretched, yawning, as he looked over her room.

He scowled, “Gryffindors and their red pride” he said, shaking his head.

Hermione was affronted. “Psh! You’re one to talk, what with all that green in your room.”

When he grinned at her, Hermione’s heart fluttered. Once again, she blushed, not familiar with how her body was reacting.

His eyes lowered to fix on her lips. “Granger, why you blushing?” he murmured, a predatorial look on his face. He moved slowly, lifting his body up over hers, bringing the sheets up with him. Hermione, just realizing she was completely in the nude, brought her hands up to cover her breasts, her legs crossing. He wedged his knee between her legs forcing them apart. Hermione lift her face up to meet his, as he lowered his lips down on hers.

Hermione felt like she was drowning in this strange new feeling of wonder. How very strange that it was Draco to give this to her. At the same time, she felt fear. Happiness never lasts and she felt so very happy right now. It wasn’t like Draco promised eternity. He hadn’t even promised tomorrow, but she glowed with the joy of the moment, of how wonderful it was to have someone focus and look after her pleasure first.

The red bird that sat on the windowsill, looked in, as if watching them.

***

Hermione couldn’t think of a better way to spend Sunday than in Hogsmeade. As Head Boy and Girl, her and Draco had special privileges, one being that they could visit Hogsmeade more frequently than the other students as they may have errands to run for Hogswart. It just so happens that they chose today to do so, after a delicious morning in bed. At least, it was delicious for Hermione. Draco had spent all morning worshipping her body. She didn’t even realize that women could cum over and over again. 

At the risk of her dying of dehydration and hunger, they finally gotten out of bed. It was actually Draco who suggested that they sneak off to Hogsmeade. Now, with the sun basking down on her as she practically skipped down the road, Hermione felt ridiculously giddy in the aftermath of her very extraordinary morning.

Beneath her lashes, she glanced at Draco. He looked every bit the part of an elegant young man. He strode with his hands in his pockets with the kind of grace one can only be born with. 

“Enjoying the view, Hermione?” he teased looking at her.

Hermione blushed. She secretly loved hearing her name on his lips. “Very much so,” she retorted back teasingly. There was so much she wanted to ask him, yet she didn’t have the courage to just yet. The sexual direction their relationship had taken was both a liberating and also made her feel so much shy around him. 

“Do you miss them?” He suddenly asked.

“Who?” Hermione asked tensely, wondering for a moment how Draco knew what she had done to her own parents.

“Weasel boy and Scar head.”

Hermione laughed out loud. Despite hearing her best friends being insulted, this was the Draco she knew. 

“Of course. They’re my friends.” 

“Yet, you didn’t follow them.” He replied gazing curiously at her.

“The Auror life isn’t for me. I’ve got to figure out what I want.”  
“What do you want?” he asked quietly.

“I’m not sure yet,” Hermione replied, faltering in her steps slightly. “What do YOU want, Draco? Why did you come back?”

“To finish school. Unlike Potter and Weasley, I’ll have to do that and then some before people start taking me seriously. We, Malfoys, had been very influential in the wizarding world for generations, but after what’s happened, and my past as a deatheater, I imagine it will be a lot harder to be reaccepted into society.” He said it casually but Hermione could tell it was something important to him. “It doesn’t matter so much to me, but I worry about my mother. She’s not used to be being shun.”

Hermione bit her bottom lip. She hadn’t even thought of Narcissa until now. With her husband in Azkaban and son in school, who else did she have? The only other surviving relative that she has would be her sister, Andromeda, and Hermione doubt Andromeda, who had lost her Muggleborn husband in the war, would want anything to do with the sister who supported Pureblood supremacy. 

They settled at the Three Broomsticks for lunch, choosing a more hidden spot near the back window. Despite their efforts, there were murmuring and whispers when they came in.

“Is that Hermione Granger?”

“What’s she doing with HIM?”

Strangers were whispering to each other.

“That Malfoy should be in jail like his dad. I’m furious he’s even allowed to be out!” a wizard said loudly, not even bothering to whisper. Hermione glared in the direction of the whisper. She got up, determined to shut that man up but Draco grabbed her wrist. 

“Sit, we’re not going to let them disrupt a perfectly good morning,” Draco’s composure was as if he couldn’t hear them but Hermione could see the way he was gripping his utensils tightly. 

“It’s not okay,” she hissed at him, feeling her anger boiling out for him.

“I’m perfectly able to defend myself if I wanted to. I just don’t think this is worth the energy,” he said calmly, arching an arrogant eyebrow at her. “Now, if you don’t sit back down, I’m going to have to punish you when we get back,” he added in a low husky whisper. 

Hermione blushed all over. He didn’t need to clarify for her to understand what kind of punishment he had in mind. “All right,” she promised, though a bit of her did want to get punished by him. 

When their food arrived, Hermione was surprised when Draco took her plate and began cutting her chicken for her. He sliced the meat into nice even pieces before handing the dish back to her. “Thanks,” she said, taken aback by his gentlemanly behavior. He knew she was capable of cutting her own meat but yet insist on taking care of her in this way.

***

True to her words, Hermione spent a great deal of the meal learning how to tune out the whispers that continued. She couldn’t wait to go though. When passing by Honeydukes, Hermione saw through the window front that it was practically empty. She grabbed Draco in. “I love these!” She squealed, pointing to a jar of chocolate quills. Draco stared at her amusingly. While she dashed around the store filling up little supply bags of candy and sugary goods, he stood in the corner watching her with his hands in his pockets.

“Do you not like candy?” Hermione asked as they headed back to Hogwarts. 

“I do with moderation,” he replied. “I try not hoard like a candy fiend though.” He gave a pointed look at her candy bag. 

Hermione dug into her bag, looking for the one snack she had purchased specifically for him. “Open your mouth, Draco. And close your eyes.”

Draco stared at her incrediously. “No way. I’m not stupid enough to let you put whatever you want in my mouth.” 

Hermione stuck her tongue out at him. “You’re no fun,” her candy in hand was starting to go a little sticky.

“I’m plenty of fun,” he reply, voice heavy with insinuation. 

Springing on him, grabbing him by the arm, Hermione popped the candy into his mouth and then one into her own. He glared at her for a moment. Then as he opened to speak, cotton candy coloured bubbles began coming out. When Hermione laughed, streams of bubbles came out of her mouth too. It was as if they were underwater but instead of clear air bubbles, these were coloured bubbles. They watched in amazement as the bubbles floated up into the sky. 

Hermione nudged Draco, opening her mouth to blow bubbles at him. He swatted her away, shaking his head. She was about to give up, when she felt a stream of bubbles popping at her. Giggling, she blow them back along with own. They stepped closer until their lips touched. In their kiss, the candy melted between the heat of their tongues, tasting so much like the cotton candy Hermione had as a child at carnivals. She was glad to associate the taste with this new memory. Closing her eyes, she let the feeling and taste of Draco press into her memories, locking this deep into her heart.


	9. Bath Time

Monday rolled around and for the first time ever, Hermione Granger was sad to go back to class. She had thoroughly enjoyed this weekend and felt more relaxed and content than she had in a long time. The one class she dreaded most was Defense Against the Dark Arts. So far, no one had taken her concerns seriously and she was starting to feel somewhat paranoid.

When confronting McGonagall about her concerns, McGonagall had given her a pitying look as if she thought that Hermione was just experiencing PTSD and might need to go to the Hospital Wing, or even worst leave Hogwarts until she “felt better”. Hermione scoffed afterwards, had McGonagall learnt nothing after all that’s happened to Harry in the past seven years? When she brought that up, McGonagall responded, “Voldemort was after Potter! Surely you’re not saying that Piddypumpkins is a dark wizard that also wants to hurt you Ms. Granger?” she had said, as if Hermione was just looking for attention as the next Harry Potter.

Hermione gritted her teeth. Piddypumpkins certainly had everyone wrapped around his “friendly” finger. The most frustrating part was that he neither said nor did anything that Hermione could hold against him as evidence. Even she had to agree with McGonagall that she could not ask him to leave with little evidence. 

And yet, Hermione continued feeling uncomfortable in his class. 

***

In potions, she rested her chin on her hand as she watched Slughorn bumble around the class, the chalk magically scribbling furiously on the board behind him. He was explaining their next project. 

She looked over at the Slytherin tables where Draco sat with Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini. He folded his arms across his chest and stared at Slughorn with a look of bored arrogance that seemed to be so common with Slytherins. Hermione’s cheeks flushed as she thought back on what they were doing at this time just yesterday.  
“I shall leave you all to find your partner like grown adults!” Slughorn said in a jolly manner, his moustache quivering as he beamed at the class. As class was over, Hermione began packing up her books. 

“Ginny, want to partner up?” she asked. Ginny, who had sat beside her in class, looked back apologetically. 

“Sorry, Hermione. I’ve promised Neville I’d pair up with him on the next project.”

“Oh, alright,” Hermione bite her lips looking around to see who else she could ask. There were a whole bunch of Gryffindors from Ginny’s year but she didn’t know their names yet and they had already begun pairing up.

“Granger,” Hermione looked up. Draco looked down at her, face completely impassive. “Do you have a partner yet?”

They hadn’t really spoken about what they were but Hermione could take a hint. What she had with Draco was unclear and until it was clear, to the public, nothing had changed between them.

“Nevermind, I’m sure Neville will understand,” Ginny stood up, glaring at Draco. “You don’t need to partner up with scum.”

Hermione winced at Ginny’s choice of word. 

“Too late, Weasley. Finally got it in your thick skull that Longbottom’s basically a failing grade, hm?” Malfoy sneered at Ginny. “War hero or not, he’s still go no brains.”

“Why you little, Ferret –“ Ginny started, eyes flashing. 

Hermione sighed, “Stop it you two,” she said holding her arms out to keep the two apart. Ginny was hot headed and Hermione could feel that she was going to pull out her wand and hex Draco any moment now. “Ginny, you’ve made a promise to Neville. I’m okay partnering up with whomever. Don’t worry about me,” she said to her friend. “Malfoy, come with me. I’ve got no classes after this and I’d like to get this over with.” She grabbed Malfoy’s wrist to the surprise of everyone and pulled him out of the classroom, eager to get him far away from Ginny.

“You might have just blown our cover back their with your touching, Granger,” Malfoy whispered as soon as they were out of earshot. She could tell he was amused.

Hermione groaned. “I don’t understand why you’re still at hostile ends with my friends. I thought you’re turning over a new leaf?”

Malfoy looked, a thoughtful expression on his face. “It’s really hard with that red hornet of a person who threatens me for just breathing.”

Hermione glared at him. “Ginny’s really nice.”

“To you yes. Yo everyone else, a pain in the butt. Not to mention, she’s still highly prejudice of Slytherins, as are a majority of the students.”

Hermione couldn’t help agreeing with him. She had seen Slytherins being bullied and isolated. As Head Girl she’s taken points from houses and such, but it just made the kids fight in secret. Large number of students associated the Slytherins with the rise of Voldemort but it wasn’t the truth. Not all Slytherins were bad. There were a large number that aided the resistance during the war and they needed to be acknowledged. It wasn’t fair that kids were bullied just because of their house. Coming back this year, Hermione had noticed that there was a significantly less kids being sorted into Slytherin. Like Harry said, the hat really took into consideration of the Sortee.

As many people stared at the Head Girl and Boy coming down the hall, Hermione suddenly had an idea. It would not be bad at to use her war fame to repair the damage. If people see her, a Gryffindor, with Draco, a Slytherin, maybe they’d start to accept that one could be friends with Slytherins. She edge close to Draco so that they almost bumped shoulders and beamed up at him. He looked back at her with an arched eyebrow. 

“What kind of crazy plan have you thought up of, Granger? I can practically hear your brain moving.”

“I was thinking that it might be a good idea to be seen with you more often,” Hermione said hesistantly. She wasn’t sure how Draco was going to react. “For the promotion of interhouse activities,” she quickly added. 

He didn’t responded to her suggestion. When he held the library door open to allow her to go first, Hermione was once again somewhat surprised by the gentlemanly gesture. She couldn’t remember the last time anyone’s done that for her. Draco was starting to become a class of his own.

They didn’t work on their potions assignment, choosing to work on their other class works instead. After a couple of hours, Hermione had to admit she enjoyed studying with Draco. He didn’t bother her with senseless chatter nor asked her to do his work as Harry and Ron were prone to do. An additional perk was that he was quite easy on the eyes as well. Hermione caught herself all too often peaking at him. The way he looked so concentrated and serious made her want him all that much more. She admired people who took their studies seriously.

The sun was setting and the golden light casting in from the tall glass windows sharpened his chiseled features, adding shadows to his already sharp cheekbones and casting a halo of light to his platinum blonde hair. Hermione, mesmerized, reached out her hand to touch his face. He looked up, momentarily shocked. 

After a moment, her hand dropped but he reached out to take it into his. Hermione glanced around the library. They were in a pretty secluded spot hidden away behind tall shelves. She stood up and went around the table with her hand still in Draco’s. Leaning in, she placed a gentle kiss on his lips. He deepened it, catching her bottom lip between his teeth gently, prying her lips open to slip his tongue in. The fear of being caught only added to the excitement. 

His arm snaked around her waist pulling her close until she stood between his legs. Letting go of her hand, he caressed her leg, starting at her knee and up her thigh. 

“Draco,” Hermione said breathlessly, her hand clasping on top of his hand to prevent him from moving it further. Her heart was speeding and she started to a bit of that ache was starting to familiarize with. 

“Hmm?” He smirked at her, eyes heavy with lust. 

“We’re in the library,” she breathed. 

“Does it get you wet, Hermione?” He whispered, pressing his lips against her ear, his fingers gently grazing against the front of her knickers. “I want to put you on the table and feast on your pussy.”

Hermione gasped and pulled back. No one’s talked dirty to her before. She was indeed throbbing with need at the image his words painted. He grinned at her wickedly. “Draco!” she scolded. She quickly looked around to make sure that they were still alone. 

“I’m famished.” Draco said loudly. He started to pack his bag as if nothing happened.

Hermione glowered at him for a moment and then went back to her side of the table to pack her stuff as well. She was very aware of how wet she was.

***

Hermione made it through dinner with thoughts filled of Draco. At the Slytherin table, she could see that he was laughing at something with Nott and Zabini, looking more carefree than she’s seen him. She frowned as Daphne Greengrass, a girl from her year, draped herself over Malfoy’s back with her arms circled around his neck in an overly friendly attitude.

“Earth to Hermione?”  
Hermione jumped and look at Ginny.

“You’ve been staring at Malfoy all night long. Did he do something weird in the library?” Ginny demanded.

“No!” said Hermione too quickly, blushing.

Ginny looked really suspicious but to Hermione’s relief, she turned back to her food.

“You know Hermione, I’ve said this countless times. I’m sorry for the way Ron treated you. This last time he really crossed the line. That stupid bloody git really did let fame get to his head but I know he didn’t mean to hurt you. It’s just that he’s always been in Harry’s shadow and now people are finally seen him as an individual. Perhaps, if you still love him, forgive him? Harry’s told me that he’s been constantly fighting with Marissa.” She looked at Hermione imploringly.

“Ron’s made his choice,” Hermione said tightly. “I’m tired of how everyone keeps covering for him, saying that it was just the way he is. People don’t hurt those that they love over and over again. I’m not upset about it anymore. I’m also not going to just get over it.” She stood up. “I’m sorry Ginny. He’s really mucked things up with me this time.” Hermione rushed out of the Great Hall. 

Not really knowing where she was going, Hermione found herself at the entrance of the Prefects’ Bathroom. She didn’t take many baths here as a Prefect because she found baths to be a waste of time. However, the familiar sight of the large marble room with the pool in the center was a comforting familiar sight tonight. She turned on a few of the faucets, hot bubbly water rushed out, filling the air scents of lavender and roses. She walked around the pool until she found the faucets for sandalwood and pine, turning them on just a little.

Stripping her uniform aside, Hermione stepped into the pool. It was filled almost to the top now. The water was very hot but not scalding, exactly how she liked it. Immersed in the scents, Hermione allowed herself to float in the water, her hair a halo mess around her head. The steam was making the room slightly foggy. She felt the tensions of the day leave her body.

Sighing, she thought about Ron. The three of them had been on the run and he had snuck into her bed one night. Realizing that they might die any day, Hermione hadn’t pushed him away when he took her virginity. He had come back, night after night as soon as Harry was sound asleep. He never lasted long, grunting and pushing into her, and she never felt anything more than the slight comfort of familiarity. How she loved him back then, happy that he had finally noticed that she was a woman, and willing to do as he asked for him to love her back. 

When the war had ended, he had held her hand as they had announced to everyone that they were finally dating. Everyone had been so happy. Molly had nearly wept with joy. Then came the press and the attention as the Harry, Ron and her were praised as war heroes. Marissa, a beautiful blond journalist, was introduced to them at an event. Ron had grown more and more distant. His physical demands on Hermione become less and less frequent. At first, she had been somewhat relieve. When he started coming back smelling of another woman’s perfume, Hermione became suspicious. She followed him one night under Harry’s invisibility cloak and it lead her all the way The Sleepy Egg, an exclusive hotel. She watched as Ron kissed Marissa and led her away to a room. Hermione had stood outside their door, refusing to believe what she saw. It wasn’t until the sound of thumping and Ron’s all too familiar groaning, that Hermione knew she could not lie to herself anymore. Rushing back to the Barrow in tears, Hermione packed up all her stuff to the confusion of the Weasleys and left to stay at the Leaky Cauldron until Hogwarts began. Ron hadn’t waited and soon, news of his breakup with Hermione was all over the papers as well as articles showing him and Marissa parading about. He had claimed that Marissa soothed his sudden heartbreak with Hermione, but Hermione knew the truth. 

Hermione’s tears slide down her cheeks as she relived what Ginny had asked to forgive. No, she couldn’t. Not this time. When she was lonely, the good memories of her and Ron, laughing would haunt her. Now, she saw clearly the betrayal she fought to accept.

Hermione held her breath and sank into the water, allowing herself to be fully submerged. She relaxed and let the thoughts of Ron go.


	10. Draco

After coming back up, Hermione allowed herself a bit more of soaking and doing laps before climbing out of the pool. She don on one of the fluffy bathrooms that were conveniently hanging in the corner and gathered her uniform. It felt slightly wicked making her way back to her dormitory knowing that she was completely in the nude under the robe but it made no sense putting dirty clothes on after her bath and she hadn’t brought clean ones with her.

Wand gripped in her hand, Hermione was ready to charm or hex at the drop of a pin. Luckily, most students had finished their dinner and were in their dormitories at this time. She did not encounter anyone, not even a ghost, or worst Peeves.

She sighed with relief as she finally made it into the Head’s Common Room. The warmth created by the fire in the fireplace was a nice escape from the chill of the hallways. 

“Well, well, well… look who was out past curfew.”

Hermione jumped at Draco’s deep voice. Her eyes dart around the room and found him lounging on the sofa with his long legs crossed. He stared at her with heavy, silver eyes. Still in his uniform, he looked ruffled from the day.

“I was in the Prefect’s bathroom,” Hermione replied casually.

His eyes dropped to where she was holding her clothes to her chest.

Hermione’s heart quickened as he got up and advanced towards her with the grace of a predator. His hand gently took hold of her wrists and lifted them above her head, causing her to drop her clothes. His nose brushed against the side of her neck as he inhaled her scent. Hermione ached to feel his lips. Her nipples, taunt from the cold from her walk back, strained sensitively against her robe, begging for attention. She arched her body so that it was in contact with his.

“You missed patrol tonight,” he murmured. “How shall I punish you?”

Hermione groaned. “You’re already punishing me.” She tried to press her body harder against his but he pulled away, just slightly out of her reached. 

Holding her hands together with one of his, he pulled at her robe stash with his free hand. Hermione gasped as her robe fell open. “Look at you, all wrapped up. Is this present for me?” He whispered huskily in her ear as he caressed her naked thigh, slowly up her ribs, before cupping her breast. Hermione sighed with pleasure.

When she didn’t respond to his question, Draco’s hand fell away and Hermione whimpered in protest. “Tell me, Hermione,” he murmured, lips grazing gratuitously against the side of her neck, his long fingers sliding up her thigh causing little shivers of pleasure.

“Please, Draco,” Hermione squirmed, parting her legs in hopes he’d touch achy core. Her unmet satisfaction from earlier in the library came back all at once, demanding, craving, lusting.

His hand tightened around hers to the point where it almost hurt. “Not until you tell me, Hermione,” his warm breath tickled her slightly, his voice almost cruel. “What were you thinking, running around at night, with nothing on under this bathrobe. Did you know you made me worry when you didn’t show up tonight? I thought something had happened to you.” His voice was still soft, but she could hear the anger, restrained in the back.

A little bit of reality cut through Hermione’s haze. Draco Malfoy was worried about her? “Punish me,” she whispered, seeing the situation as it was. Although Draco was the one holding her hands together, she was in control. She had the power to give him the permission to touch her. “Punish me for being a wicked girl, running around naked, with a wetness between the thighs.” Draco lifted his silver eyes to meet her amber ones. Hermione never felt more understood. He let go of her wrists and she wrapped them around him, meeting him for a hungry kiss.

Hermione drank him in like a thirsty woman being denied water all her life. His mouth was hard, his lips soft, his tongue all velvet like a snake dancing with hers. He groaned as Hermione placed her hand where he’s been denying her. She could feel his shaft, hard and demanding against the constraints of his pants. Letting go of him, but still holding onto the kiss, Hermione, blindly undid his belt first. She could feel his desire as he deepened the kiss, demanding more, bruising her lips. She undid the button and the zipper, his shaft sprung out, tenting in his boxers. Pulling away from the kiss, with gentle hands, she pushed his pants and underwear down so that he can be free.

Malfoy groaned as she took him in her hands, carefully at first, then cupping his balls in one hand, she began stroking him, her thumb teasing his tip, rubbing the sticky tear that had form down onto the sides. Squeezing him in her hand, Hermione watched Malfoy. His eyes were shut tight and his jaws clenched in restraint. “Why have you been denying me?” She whispered, pressing kisses to his face, quickening her strokes. His hand reached out cupping and squeezing, one on her breast, one on her backside.

“Because you’re too good for me,” he groaned out. 

Hermione froze, hand in mid-stroke. “What do you mean?”

“How can I demand anything from you? I’ve done terrible things and could’ve done worst. For your part in stopping that, I can give you all that you need and it won’t be enough.” She knew he was referring to his past as a Death Eater. If they hadn’t brought Voldemort down, where would Draco be now?

“But it gives me pleasure to give you pleasure,” Hermione replied, squeezing harder, resuming her strokes. She was keenly aware of the strange feelings that were creeping in her heart, touched by Draco’s words.

His body flinched in protest when her hands released him. Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him, her body aching for the warm, hard shaft poking against her soft stomach. She began trailing kisses down his neck, her hands unbuttoning his shirt as she went. When she brushed over his heart, she could’ve sworn she felt the rapid beat against her lips. Slowly she moved down his body, her tongue and mouth drifting slowly over his ribs and down his lean abs, she kissed the sides of his inner thighs. When she was on her knees, she looked up at him. He gazed at her, lips slightly parted. His eyes were glowing, silver orbs in the warmth of torchlight. 

Watching him, her tongue flicked out licking at the salty drop that had once again formed on his tip. He groaned, his hands reached out to either side of her head, tangled in her hair to steady himself. Hermione closed her eyes and began teasing him with her lips, tongue and hands, toying with his shaft as it were the most delicious piece of lolly she’s ever tasted. In a way, it was truly delicious. Although she had given head before, she had never experience the power she felt at this moment.

She opened her eyes again and looked up him as she ran kisses up to the tip of his cock. Holding eye contact once more, she took as much as she could into her mouth. It was difficult since he was so thick and Hermione gagged slightly trying to take more in than she could. He gently caressed her hair, hands slightly trembling as if in restraint to what he really wanted to do. 

Once Hermione’s adjusted to his size, she began sucking and teasing. Her small hands were gripping his thigh and stroking the part that could not fit in. Both his hands held her hair tightly now, as if for dear life, his breath ragged. Hermione felt herself leaky wet, wishing he could also be between her thighs. She had never realized how good it felt to give pleasure like this. Pressing her chest against his knees, she rubbed her nipples for released.

“Oh, Hermione,” Malfoy groaned. She could tell he was closed in the tight way he held himself. Hermione opened her mouth wider in attempt to take more of him in, but once against, she chocked, burning tears formed at her eyes but she didn’t stop. She sucked him harder, hand moving faster, tongue twirling and licking. “I’m going to cum,” he groaned, trying to pull her head back gently, but Hermione refused, holding on tight, increasing her speed, sucking deeply.

Draco came with a shout, pressing deep into her throat, hands so tight in her hair that she felt a prickly bit of pain. When the hot jolt of liquid spilled into her mouth, Hermione swallowed, savoring the saltiness of Draco.


	11. Reclusive

His grip on her hair loosened and he gathered her into his arm and simply held her like a man well spent. Hermione sank into the embrace, holding him up as much as he was holding her. “Hermione, you temptress,” he whispered, kicking off his shoes and stepping out of his pants and boxer. Hermione squeaked as Draco lifted her into his arms. He carried her into his bedroom and dropped her onto the large bed.

“Don’t move,” he said against her lips. “I’m going to wash up and when I get back, I want to see you here, like this, naked and ready.”

Hermione moaned in protest but Draco had already rushed into the shower. She waited, frozen in her spot. At first she was just going to wait like he asked but curiosity and imagination got the better of her. She got up and walked into the bathroom. Draco, under the rushing water, was a sight to behold. It was the first time Hermione’s seen him fully naked. Her eyes travelled up his body. He was so beautifully proportioned, all lean muscles and epitome of strength and vitality. 

He looked over his shoulder and saw her. Hermione let out a gasp as he grasped her wrist. The untied bathrobe slipped off her body and he tossed it out into the bedroom. Holding her against his body under the running water, Draco said, “What are you doing here? I thought I asked you to stay in bed?” His hands caressed her buttocks, now slicked with water. “I really ought to punish you some more,” he said, a lusty glimmer in his quartz eyes. 

He pressed gentle kisses along her face and neck as his hands moved up and down her body, caressing her. His hand stopped between her thigh and his fingers teasing her apart. Hermione let out a moan as he nibbled her shoulder, pleasure mixing with pain once again. His fingers teased her bud until she was moist and slipped in. Hermione grabbed hold of his arm for support and to ground herself against his hand, wanting more. A low laugh escaped his lips, amused by her enthusiasm. He kissed her gently, his fingers moving gently in and out as well.

Hermione kissed back with desperation but Draco was frustratingly steady. Her hand reached out to grab his cock, which had sprung back to attention against her belly. Her fingers gently brushed teasingly over the large head and gently traced along the veins. Draco stiffened all over, gently tugging her lower lip with his teeth, the pacing of his fingers, speeding up but still with restraint. Slowly, he backed her up against the wall.  
Hermione watched with hazy eyes as Draco knelt before her. He hooked one leg over his shoulder and then the other. With her being completely vulnerable and in his face, he went to ravish her pussy with his mouth. Hermione moaned at the wantonness of how he looked beneath her. She had been waiting for this all day. 

When her climax came, Hermione never felt it more strongly. It shook her to the very being, intensified, knowing it was Draco who gave it to her. 

Draco dried her off with a towel before carrying her to his bed once more. The moment she hit the sheets, she could feel her eyelids being quite heavy. Draco, who had started lavishing attention on her breasts, while straddled on top, took notice. She made a feeble protest when he stopped. 

“It’s alright,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to her cheek. Pulling the comforter over them, Draco held her against his body. His arousal was still obvious as it was pressing hard against her belly. Hermione, overly spent, first the relaxing bath and then second her intense release, found it hard to fight too much and fell into a deep slumber.

***

Swirling her quill on her parchment absentmindedly, Hermione watched Piddypumpkins lecture the class. Once in a while, she could feel his gaze being all too direct. The anger underneath, not too well hidden. It unnerved her but she refused to be cowed. It was hard to be upset about anything given what had happened the previous night. Even Neville had commented that Hermione practically looked radiant at breakfast, to which she blushed.

Once the lecture was over, Hermione was about to bolt out. 

“Ms. Granger,” Piddypumpkins walked over.

“Yes?” Hermione threw an arched eyebrow at him. Ginny, who had been sitting beside Hermione, also looked over.

“A private word, if I may.” Piddypumpkins lowered his eyes so Hermione could not read what was underneath. 

“Er - I’ll see you at lunch, Hermione,” Ginny said even though Hermione’s eyes were imploring her to stay. 

Once the classroom emptied, it was just the two of them. “What did you want to talk to me about, Professor?” Hermione said tightly, one hand in her bag, her fist closed around her wand.

He circled her like a shark, his body occasionally brushing hers as he made his round. “They say you are the brains behind the trio,” he began. “That it wasn’t just Potter’s luck and mother’s love that saved him over and over again.”

“Were you not here when it happened, Professor?”

“Oh no, I was out of the country during this time.” He stopped in front of her with just the desk separating them. 

“You weren’t educated at Hogwarts, were you?” Hermione asked.

“No, I graduated from Durmstrang,” he said carefully, wand twirling in his hand.

Hermione’s eyes widened. Durmstrang was a school that was renowned for its focus on the dark arts and the practice of dark magic. It didn’t make sense that Piddypumpkins would teach in a completely different style. 

“I first visited Hogwarts during the Triwizard tournament. I saw you at that time, you were beautiful, dancing so gracefully with Krum,” Piddypumpkins closed his eyes as if reimagining the scene.

Hermione took a step back, chills running all over her body. She tried to remember Piddypumpkins amongst Krum’s crowd, but drew a blank. She hadn’t really paid attention to the Durmstrang students at that time. 

He opened his eyes and looked at her again. “I fell in love with Hogwarts then,” he said, his eyes drifting down to Hermione’s lips. “How marvelously different it was from Durmstrang.”

Hermione struggled not to outright shiver. Again, Piddypumpkins was not saying anything out of place and yet every instinct in her body was going into defense mode from the share proximity that he was standing. Her eyes stared at his wand, effortlessly moving between his fingers. Despite his friendly exterior, his nonchalant manner, and his advocacy for theoretical studies, he was a wizard who could cast magic with both accuracy and speed. 

“I could never imagine that I would have the pleasure of teaching you, Ms. Granger,” he said huskily, eyes travelling back to her eyes from her lips. “The reputation of your intelligence is widely known. Yet, the spirit underneath is much feistier that I remembered you to be.” The wand in his hand stilled and he leaned ever so slightly closer. For a moment, Hermione feared that he would reach out and touch her. She took another step back instinctively.

Hermione's jaw tightened. “Exactly, what is it that you want to know from me, Professor?”

“I simply wish to know you better, Ms. Granger. Amongst all my students, you’ve by far been the most reclusive.”


	12. Detentions

Piddypumpkins slid off his heavy round frames and looked at Hermione. She was struck by how piercingly green his eyes were. It was like a forest, darkened by the setting sun, and the monsters were going to come out. So uncomfortably intense they were, that she had to look away. He resumed his pacing again.

“I’ve heard you and the young Malfoy did not get along as children, but you seem well acquainted now,” there was amusement in his voice but there also seem to be bitterness. “Dare I shall, you two seem intimate?” He was standing behind her now. “You must’ve been ever so close…physically. I can smell him on you.” 

Hermione blanched all over. “Malfoy and I have to work together as Heads. It’s inevitable that we are within close proximity.”

“Too close, I must say,” Piddypumpkins laughed mockingly. “One has to wonder, if sleeping is all you two do behind those doors.” His tone was heavily insinuating something else. His green eyes bore into hers accusingly, thinly veiling anger and lust. He had leaned in even closer, making her feel more and more suffocated by the moment.

Hermione’s hand smacked him across the face before she even realized what she had done. Horrified, she stared at him. Her other hand cradling the offending one, as if to hold it back from another attempt.

“Detentions, Ms. Granger. For assaulting a teacher.” Piddypumpkins straightened up, putting his glasses back on, but not before Hermione caught the flash of satisfaction cross his face. A red hand mark was slowly starting to spread across his cheek.

Hermione grabbed her bag and rushed from the room. It wasn’t until she was a fair distance that she opened the first empty classroom and locked herself in. Heaving coughs and bile threaten to come up but she held it all down. She tried to take deep breaths and clutched her wand in her hand. Shaking, she sat down on the floor and curled herself into a ball. She was both disgusted and angry. The scene replayed itself over and over again in her mind. He was from Durmstrang, which meant he knew a lot about dark magic. He was efficient with his wand. He seemed bizarre mentioning that he had seen her before. He made a comment about her closeness with Draco. He had wanted to provoke her.

Would he report her to McGonagall? Would she be expelled? No, she thought. Harry had done worst over the years… but she was not Harry. She would fight Piddypumpkins every step of the way if he attempted anything, she thought with determination. 

Hermione stood up, still shaking, and tried to compose herself before she left the classroom. Her thoughts were slightly less frantic now but she was still confused. What did Piddypumpkins actually want? 

***

Lunch was almost over by the time she reached the Great Hall. She felt slightly angry as she saw Ginny and the betrayal of being left behind. Ginny could tell from her face that she had been uncomfortable with Piddypumpkins. Instead of going to the Gryffindor table, her eyes sought out Draco. She went and sat down at the Slytherin table.

Draco looked at her in surprise. 

She begun filling her plate with roast chicken, corn, and potatoes. 

“Are you alright?” Draco asked, concerned. Nott and Zabini also looked over at her.

Hermione nodded, not meeting their eyes. 

“You do know that you’re sitting at the wrong table right, Granger?” Nott tossed out at her. Zabini, who was sitting beside him, turned to look at Hermione with a cool stare.

Hermione glared at Nott. “Yes, I do know my reds from greens.”

Draco let out a laugh. He placed his hand on her shoulder as if to placate her but also to mark that she was under his protection while amongst the Slytherins. “Welcome to our humble table, Granger,” he said.

Hermione enjoyed the warmth of his touch, wishing she could run her hand down his arm. “Very kind of you, Malfoy,” she said instead and begun eating. 

Hermione looked up as Piddypumpkins entered the Hall. With his glasses on, he looked as friendly and harmless as could be. Stopping to say hello to students here and there, he was the epitome of a friendly professor. She could see the red mark across his face even from the distance of where she was sitting. Undoubtedly, he was going to parade her damage around and play the part of the victim. 

Draco followed her gaze but said nothing.

Nott came over to Hermione’s side. “Gryffindor’s obnoxiousness finally got to you, hmm?” he egged her, watching her eat.

Hermione glared at him, refusing to be taunted.

Nott reached a hand to push a stray hair behind Hermione’s ear. “Smile,” he said, “your pals are watching.”

Hermione glanced over to the Gryffindors. Neville and Ginny were indeed looking over with their mouths open. Hermione blushed thinking about what it must have looked like with Nott’s hand touching her ear and Draco’s hand on her shoulder. 

Draco’s gaze at Nott was so cold that Hermione shivered. Nott let go but the grin he shot Hermione was a reminder of a mischievous troublemaker. “You’re going to scare Granger away, Nott. Why don’t you go back to your seat?” 

“I was just trying to give her a proper welcome. It’s not everyday, we’re blessed with a celebrity,” Nott whined. Obediently, he went back over to Zabini, who still coolly continued to eat, as if his food was more interesting. 

Hermione looked down at her food to avoid the stares coming in. She could see the horrified look that crossed Professor Trelawney’s face as Piddypumpkins sat down beside her. Under the table, she placed her hand on Draco’s leg, needing more support from him. His hand dropped from her shoulder and rested on top of hers. The warmth of it made Hermione feel all better at once. She immediately thought of what she else she wanted to do with Draco’s hand. Feeling heated and embarrassed, she let her burning gazed run over Draco’s face.

Draco returned her burning gaze and Hermione blushed, quickly pulling her hand away to resume eating. There would be time for this when they were out of public sight. It felt too intimate, the way all eyes were on them right now.

After she had finished, they took a walk outside the school. 

“I’m guessing that mark on Piddypumpkins’s face was your doing?” Draco asked once they were alone. 

Hermione nodded tensly.

“What’s going on, Hermione?” Draco asked. They had stopped walking now and were hidden from sight by trees, close to the Quidditch stadium. 

Hermione felt the tightness in her chest and the stinging in her eyes. Draco pulled her into his embrace and she held onto him as if her life depended on it. She badly wanted to let someone else protect her for once. There was no one else anymore. Her parents couldn’t remember her and her friends didn’t believe her. There was only Draco, who had shown her uncharacteristic gentleness and care for her over the past weeks. All at once, her tears poured out as she felt herself open up. 

“I hit him,” she sobbed.

Draco held her tighter. “But what did that bastard do?” he asked tensely.

“He kept asking me questions,” her thoughts were once again all jumbled in her head as Hermione’s sobs intensified. She was finding it hard to breath. Draco’s hand stroked her back awkwardly as if he didn’t quite know how to sooth someone. She knew that Piddypumkins wasn’t just the reason for how she felt right now but a catalyst for her release of pent up fears and sadness.

When Hermione’s sobbing stopped, Draco wiped her face gently with his handkerchief. It was green with the monograms D.M. embroidered in silver thread. 

“What kind of questions,” he asked her gently.

“A bit of Harry, a bit of how close we are,” Hermione said shakingly. “He insinuated that he knew… that we…” she blushed.

Cold fury was written all over Draco’s aristocratic face. He cupped Hermione’s face with his hands. Hermione was surprised when he brought his lips down on hers gently. She welcomed the warmth and softness of his tongue and lips. So lost in his touch she was, that for a moment, it was everything. 

“I don’t remember him with You – Know –Who’s inner group and the name Piddypumpkins doesn’t ring a bell, ” Draco said pensively, once they’ve pulled apart and begun walking back to the castle. “But I’ll look into him.” 

“He said he’s from Durmstrang,” Hermione said. “He was here during the Triwizard Tournament.” 

“Why Durmstrang?” Draco questioned. 

It was indeed a very good question, Hermione thought. Piddypumpkins didn't have an accent which may ruled out the fact that he might have grew up within Durmstrang's borders. Why Durmstrang, when everyone knew Hogwarts was the best?


	13. Boggarts

The rest of the day was unbearable for Hermione. News of her hitting Piddypumpkins had spread like wildfire and by the end of the day students and teachers whispered and talked about her as if she were mad. She heard them and she saw the looks. People backed away from her whenever she approached as if she had the plague.

Hermione had dealt with this type of isolation at many points of her life. The hardest had to have been when Rita Skeeter wrote that awful article about her playing with Krum and Harry’s feelings. She had even received hate mail at that point. Thank to that experience, everything else paled in comparison. However, it was still all so unpleasant. She may have hit Piddypumpkins but it was definitely not without provocation. 

By the end of her last class of the day, Hermione skipped dinner and went straight to her room just to escape all the hostility. It was tiresome and she was not going to be anyone’s spectacle. 

The quiet peace in her room was a welcomed retreat away from the noise of everything else. Hermione was just about to begin writing her essay for Herbology when she heard a tapping on her window. Looking up, she saw a dark grey barn owl. She opened the window and it swooped in. Sticking it’s little foot out, Hermione untied the scroll of parchment attached. 

-

Hermione,

Ginny told me you’ve been acting strange. Is everything okay? I hope Malfoy isn’t giving you a hard time. She just told me that you’ve hit a teacher today. I’m really worried.

Ron and I have been running through the countryside in hunt of the last evading vampires. They’re a nasty bunch that’s been scaring the muggles silly. Auror training is a lot of fun but wish you were here as well.

Lots of love,  
Harry

P.S. There will be a Halloween Party at the ministry. Please come. Kingsley has already owled McGonagall and she’s given the OK.

P.P.S. Ron says Hi.

-

Hermione’s eyes welled up. The cage of emotions in her heart were threatening to open again and she quickly pushed it back down. The barn owl pecked her hand as if expecting a reply soon so it can go on its merry way.

Grabbing a piece of parchment, Hermione replied:

-

Harry,

There’s something fishy going on with that teacher. If there is one person in the world who may understand me right now, it’s you. Malfoy’s been great. He’s changed a lot. I’m glad you are having fun out there. I miss you and Ron lots. I can’t commit to the party but I will consider it.

Love,  
Hermione

-

The moment the parchment was secure, the owl took off. For a moment, Hermione watch as it became a tiny dot in the distant sky. The cool autumn air hit her face with such briskness that Hermione quickly latched the windows close again. Shivering, she sat back down and watched the setting sun. 

***

Preparing to go out for the evening patrol, Hermione was fixing her cloak around her neck, when there was a knock on her door. She quickly opened it, knowing it could only be Draco.

“Hello,” she said breathlessly. He was looking handsome with the top collar buttons undone and sleeves rolled up. 

“I’ve asked the prefects to do the rounds tonight as practice,” he said. His hands were on her cloak and he unclasped it, putting it aside. “I didn’t see you at dinner, so I snuck you a little something.” Reaching into his school bag, Draco brought out a little container.

“Oh!” said Hermione in surprise. She felt very touched by Draco’s gesture.

“My mother used to worry that I wouldn’t have enough to eat. Whenever I left the house, she would have the elves pack me extra snacks in little boxes like this,” Draco said awkwardly.

“It was very kind of you to think of me,” Hermione reached her hand to grab Draco’s hand. Then she blushed. They may have done some intimate things but this felt like a different type of intimacy.

Sitting out in the Common Room, Hermione wolfed down her food while Draco read. She had to admit, it was kind of nice to eat in pure silence with nothing but the crackling fire. Feeling full and content, she sent the box away to wash itself and looked over at Draco. She couldn’t understand how he could read and study without taking down notes. 

Sensing her attention, Draco put his book down and Hermione, without thinking, went over to him. Taking her hand, he pulled her onto his lap. For a moment he held her against his chest and she rested, listening to his heartbeat. 

“Draco,” Hermione started, hesitating.

“Hmm?” Draco crooked an eyebrow at her.

“Accio glass veil.” A glass veil normally used for potions flew from her school bag into her hand. Pointing her wand to her head, Hermione drew out a silvery wasp of memory and placed it into the veil. She then corked it and past it to Draco. “If anything happens to me, this is my interaction with Piddypumpkins today. It’s not much but I’d like you to safeguard.”

“You’ll be fine,” Draco said, taking the veil anyways. He placed it carefully onto the table beside his book. “You’re more than capable.” He held her tighter. There was a hard glint in his eyes as if he was almost willing what he said to happen. Despite his words, Draco was clearly concerned and Hermione’s heart warmed at his attention.

“If you were always this nice, we would’ve gotten along very well,” she teased.

“Slytherins never do anything for free,” Draco replied, tilting Hermione’s face so he could bring his lips down on hers gently. Hermione responded with ease. It was as if these kisses were second nature now. He reached down, she reached up, always meeting each other half way.

That night, they slept in the same bed once again, holding tight onto each other. The threat of Piddypumpkins was still in the back of their minds, putting everything else on hold.

***

All week long, Hermione waited for Piddypumpkins to announce the detention date but still, all week long, he did nothing. He didn’t approach her or looked at her in class but continued to parade his bruised face around. Hermione continued to withstand the whispers and dirty looks. He had started to amass a fan club of sympathizers, mostly girls. 

One day, Piddypumpkins came to class completely clean-shaven without his beard. He was almost unrecognizable. The beard had added years to his face and without it, he looked barely older than them. The massive bruise on his face, which was turning purple and yellow, did little to distract from the solid strength of his jaw and the sharpness of his green eyes. With his wild hair combed down properly with a side parting, he stilled looked mature. Hermione could tell that he knew his effect on women and mentally scoffed at it. He was a handsome face hiding a twisted monster. 

“Professor, you look so much better without the beard. You should never grow one again,” one of the girls tittered at the front of the class, leaning in on the desk with her cleavage on full display.

“Oh ho, you flatter me, Ms. Flaggenstall,” Piddypumpkins blushed, looking all flustered as he pull out his notes and books.

Hermione clutched her quill in her hand and it threatened to snap in half as she glared at Piddypumpkins. She knew he was up to something today. Soon enough, after the class ended, a class in which Hermione could hardly concentrate with the amount of giggling and eyelash batting from the female class population, Piddypumpkins once again called her to stay behind.

Hermione shivered as death glares were shot her way and some girls even lingered at the door as if prepare to fight Hermione in defense of their professor. Piddypumpkins did not wait for everyone to leave before he spoke. He didn’t look in her direction, still playing the victim, as there was still an audience.

“Ms. Granger, tonight, I’d like you to serve detention. Please meet me at my office promptly at before dinner.”

Hermione didn’t respond and left. She almost stepped on someone’s leg as they tried to trip her on the way out. Fuming, she deliberately kicked the foot and fled the room.

***

Hermione snuck a sandwich from the Great Hall and stayed in the library well into the evening. When it was finally time to meet Piddypumpkins, she reluctantly got up. She didn’t know what to expect so she stashed her wand into the side of her skirt and hid it from view with her robe. 

She knocked on his office door. There was no answer. She tried to turn the nob but it was locked. The corridor was dark and empty as most of the other students and teachers were eating dinner. Hermione straightened up. Her mind ran through all the possible scenarios of what Piddypumpkins could do for detention. 

So lost she was in her thoughts while staring at the door that Hermione didn’t hear Piddypumpkins as he came upon her. 

“Ms. Granger,” he said. Hermione whipped around, startled by how close he was. She glared at him.

“We both know that you provoked me so you mind as well drop the niceties. No ones around to watch,” she hissed. 

“Tsk, tsk. I will admit to no such thing,” he smirked at her, leaning against he wall with his arms crossed. “You may have been out in the wild for too long but decent people do not resolve problems with violence.” He chided, looking down at her lazily.

Hermione flushed all over, her hands clenched tightly to her side. She was using ever amount of restraint in her body not to pull out her wand and hurt Piddypumpkins. 

“I’ve got a real treat for you tonight,” he said. “Follow me.” 

Hermione followed Piddypumpkins down the corridor. He led her through the dungeons and up a series of stairs. She wondered how he even knew where they were going as he was still quite new to Hogwarts. They climbed more stairs until they reached spiraling ones leading up to the top of a tower. Her legs were burning by the time they finally reached a door. She had no idea where they were. 

“Sybil’s told me she’s been having a bit of trouble with these and I thought what better than to get my star student to take care of it for her.” Piddypumpkins stopped in front a door at the very top of the tower. “Alohomora,” with a wave of his wand, he unlocked the door and gestured for Hermione to go in first.

“Lumos,” Hermione whispered. Her wand lit up to revel a tiny room filled with wardrobes and cabinets. They rattled and shook.

“Boggarts,” Piddypumpkins said. “I’m sure you must’ve read about these before.” He was clearly enjoying Hermione’s confusion.

Hermione looked at him incrediously. “How many are there?”

“That’s for you to find out, my dear,” with that Piddypumpkins shut the door leaving Hermione alone in the room. 

Hermione stood there for a moment staring at the rattling, shaking furniture and tried to figure out what it was that she was most afraid of. She thought back to third year and scoffed at how silly it had been. How easy life had been when her biggest fear was a failing grade. 

Steadying her breath, Hermione waved her wand at the first cabinet. The doors opened slowly and slowly it took a form. Hermione stumbled backward in shock. Of all things, she did not expect this. 

The boggart had taken the form of bedraggled version of herself holding a broken wand with dead eyes, bruised and bloodied, the words ‘mudblood’ clearly visible on her arm with blood tricking down. It crawled towards her, as if asking for help, but was mute.

Hermione screamed, half relieved to hear her own voice. She tried to imagine something funny, anything, but nothing came to mind other than how much fear was gripping her heart. “Ri-ri-riddikulus!” she attempted feebly. Nothing happened.

She felt a tightness in her chest and a lack of air in her lungs as she stared at her boggart-self. “Riddikulus!” She shouted again, clutching the doorknob behind her. She blindly attempted to open it but could not. “Riddikulus!” she tried again, trying to imagine a clown this time. Boggart-Hermione momentarily looked confused. Clown colors were popping all over its grey skin. 

Hermione tried to laugh at it but she was still shaking. The horror that was gripping her heart and mind was real. Although the boggart version of herself was confused and in all shades of the rainbow, it did not disappear as a truly successful casting of the Riddikulus spell would have made it. Hermione waved her wand to push it away from her and with a little too much power, boggart-Hermione slammed against the other wardrobes causing a domino effect. The wardrobes and cabinets fell upon each other, releasing the other boggarts and soon, there were five dead-eye boggart-Hermiones coming upon her. 

Hermione screamed and screamed. She cast a protective shield spell over herself so that the boggarts-Hermiones would not be able to touch her. She shut her eyes, shutting down her body, in total petrification. She couldn’t breath. She knew she was losing focus. It wasn’t real, she told herself over and over again but she couldn’t bring herself to look at the boggarts. Of all the things, she had not realized that her biggest fear would be herself, lonely and powerless.

The door blast open and the boggart-Hermiones, sensing someone new, were momentarily confused. “Riddikulus!” Hermione heard Piddypumpkins shout. Popping noises filled the room as the boggarts exploded. Piddypumpkins magic collided with hers as he penetrated through her protective charm. She winced at the pain that sliced through her mind at being so roughly disarmed. Piddypumpkins pulled her out of the room and slam shut the door behind her.

It was only with the cool air of the stairwell that Hermione started to gasp for breath as she stopped screaming and started breathing. She felt Piddypumpkins’ arms wrap around her, holding her to him, holding her up. She was shaking uncontrollably and knew she would fall onto the ground if it weren’t for him. Hermione didn’t have the strength to push him away as she gasped for breath. The fear of everything she felt was hitting her all the same even though the boggarts were no longer there. Consciousness was still flickering in and out like smoke.

She didn’t know how long she had been there or how long Piddypumpkins had been holding her. All she knew was fear. When she finally regained enough senses, she shoved at Piddypumpkins. “Let go of me!” she shouted, her voice was still hoarse from the screaming, but he wouldn’t let go.

“I’ve gone too far. Forgive me,” Piddypumpkins said, stroking her hair. Hermione heard the lie through it. She shoved at him but he held her in a grip so tight, it hurt. She glared up at him and saw the sadistic satisfaction in his eyes. He liked seeing her like this, vulnerable and helpless.


	14. Into the Kitchen We Go

Hermione wasn’t sure how she managed to pull away but she did eventually. Tripping and stumbling, she ran down the stairs gripping the rails with her hands to prevent falling. She also didn’t know how she managed to get all the way down without breaking her neck. She also felt so much shame, disgust and horror. Shame for not being able to defeat something she had vanquished as a third year, disgust at being touched by Piddypumpkins, and horror at the still very real and clear image of her boggart self.

Half way to her dormitory, she had to stop. Leaning against the wall, she vomited. The sandwich she had much earlier came out but she continued to heave until there was nothing left. She quickly cast a cleaning spell. The halls were deserted and she had no idea how much time had actually passed. She desperately wanted to be in her room. It was the closest thing she had to a home. 

Her shaking legs were failing her and she felt so cold. Her heart was still beating so fast that she was still feeling nauseous. Huddling down onto the floor she pulled her robe closer around her. Everything was spinning. Clutching her head, she squeezed her eyes tight shut, desperate to will that despairing image of the boggart out of her head.

“Granger?” she heard faintly but did not look up. 

A hand reached out and grabbed her shoulder, shaking her. “Granger!” Two hands grabbed hers and pulled them away from her head. Hermione pried her eyes open and was surprised to see Zabini in front of her.

“Are you all right?”

She didn’t answer him. He pulled her to her feet and she fell forward, all her weight toppling onto him. He stumbled back a bit, determined not to fall over. Cursing, he pulled out his wand and with a flick, Hermione felt herself lifted into the air. It made her feel even more nauseous and she began heaving again. 

“Draco’s going to kill me but I’m not caring you to your room like a muggle,” Zabini muttered. Hermione floated in mid air after him as he sped away to her dorm.

When they finally reached there, Zabini banged on the door and an annoyed Draco answered. When he saw Hermione, he quickily let them in. Zabini lowered Hermione onto the floor. Draco, his face ashen with worry, pulled her up gently. 

“Hermione,” he said, gently said. Hermione had a hard time trying to adjust to the stability. Her nausea had intensified after being tossed around in the air. “What happened?” Draco demanded from Zabini.

“I don’t know. Found her like this in the halls,” Zabini shrugged. 

Draco summoned his potions kit from his room. Setting up by the fire, he worked swiftly, chopping, mixing, and grinding ingredients together. In a few minutes, he presented Hermione with a smoking vial. He brought it to her lips, and Hermione without asking, gulped it down in full trust.

It tasted like ginger, honey, and spices and she felt immediately warmed and better as it went down. It was a calming drought.

“What happened?” he asked again, staring into her eyes with his silver ones, his hands gripping her shoulders.

Hermione couldn’t answer him. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to but she felt ashamed. How could she explain that she was reduced to this state from the fear of herself?

Draco’s face was still set with concern as he looked at her. “Hermione,” he said sternly.

The emotions the boggarts triggered were still gripping her heart. She felt a gentle probe in her mind. Her eyes widen as she stared back at Draco. 

“Let me,” he said and she nodded. “Legilimens.”

It was like a ripple of coolness and surety as Draco swept into her mind. Hermione stared into his quartz eyes, allowing him to see what she had seen. She was following Piddypumpkins up the spiraling stairs…the dark little room with the shaking wardrobes…boggart-Hermione crawling forward… five boggart-Hermiones… the screaming. Hermione cringed in fear, trying to pull back out of the memory but his mind held hers in place soothingly, holding, allowing him to finish seeing what he came for. The coolness and surety slowly dissipated as he retracted from her mind and Hermione once again was in her dorm, Draco’s hands on her shoulders, and Zabini hunched over watching them.

Draco’s patrician face contorted with cold rage. “That bastard,” he spat out. He tried to get up but Hermione caught his hand. 

“Don’t go,” she begged. “You’ll get in trouble.”

Draco shook his head but said nothing. For a moment he stood there as if still considering whether to leave or not. Then to her relief, he lowered himself back down, his eyes still hard and fixed on the ground.

“I’m going to head back to my room,” Zabini said awkwardly. He left quietly and swiftly.

Draco pulled Hermione into his arms and she collapsed against him. “Hermione, you aren’t alone. I’m here with you right now.” 

Hermione held onto Draco tighter. She so desperately wanted to believe him. Right now, those were the magic words. She could enjoy Draco’s presence for the time being but she could not hold him with her forever. Soon, he’d leave her, because everyone eventually does. Just as Hermione thought that, she beat herself up over it. How could she be clingy? Breathing in Draco’s scent, she wished the moment would last. 

When she was ready, Hermione eventually managed to pull herself away from Draco and into her own bathroom. She took a shower under water so hot that it almost hurt but it did a lot to warm her up. Dried and clean, she came back out into the common room in her nightgown and as promised, Draco was still there. She worried that he would have left to find Piddypumpkins. The thing was, Draco could not do anything that can compromise his situation. After the war had ended, he had been tried as well and for his part as a Death Eater, he had been let off easy but given a warning. Anything unforgivable and he might just as easily be thrown in Azkaban with his father. Hermione didn’t think she would be able to live with the guilt if she knew she had caused it. She would find a way to deal with Piddypumpkins on her own. 

Once again, bringing her wand to her head, she drew out the memory and placed it in a vial for Draco. He took it without question and stored it in his room. 

Her stomach growled loudly and Hermione flushed with embarrassment. 

“I didn’t store any food tonight,” Draco said, looking at her stomach. 

“It’s okay. Fancy a walk?” As much as she dislike to abuse it, she knew exactly where to go.

They grabbed their cloaks and left their dorm. Hermione was surprised when Draco grasped her hand in his. His hand was warm and she held on tightly. When they arrived, he looked bewildered. 

The Hogwarts kitchen was quiet in the middle of the night. There was a roaring fireplace and a few house-elves dozed by it. Seeing these creatures without proper clothing and sleeping quarters made reminded Hermione of her SPEW campaign. She felt guilty that she had abandoned it and vowed to do something about it again soon. Perhaps forcing them to pick up clothes was not the best method.

Gingerly, she looked around for food, tip-toeing over house-elves while Draco sat at the edge of the table, looking around with wonder. When she couldn’t find even a breadcrumb, she realized the food must be stored by magic only the house-elves could access. Gently, she tapped an house-elf. “Excuse me,” she whispered loudly.

The house-elf groggily opened its large round eyes. Hermione was stuck by how much it resembled Dobby and her eyes immediately filled with tears.

“Yes, Miss?” it asked her in its squeaky voice.

“If it’s not too much trouble, would you please heat up some leftovers? You see, I missed dinner earlier tonight,” she requested gently.

The house-elf shot to alertness. “Of course!” It squeaked and it immediately went to work, quickly and quietly. 

Hermione sat down across from Draco. Before she could even speak, two bowls of steaming hot stew appeared before them with cups of pumpkin juice. She turned to thank the house-elf but it was already fast asleep again.

“Hermione, how did you know about this place?” Draco asked incrediously.

“Heard it from a few rule breakers,” she replied, grinning at him. She quickly gulped down the stew, ravenously. When her bowl was empty she looked up to see Draco still watching her with amazement. His own bowl was still at least half full and she eyed it enviously. Without question, he swapped their bowls. “I already had dinner,” he said, gesturing her to go ahead and Hermione quickly downed his as well, feeling very much like a pig but too hungry to truly be embarrassed.

They sat closer by the fire afterwards, huddled together sipping pumpkin juice. Hermione looked at Draco. His face was warmed by the firelight but his eyelashes, were so blond they were almost tipped with ice, his sharp, strong, and elegant nose, his cheekbones were carved even harsher with shadows, and his full beautiful lips. Her heart raced again. He was handsome and he was kind, even beneath all that ice.


	15. Morning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major smut chapter. Avoid if you don't enjoy smut!

Hermione wiggled her bottom against the warm solidness behind her. She had slept well but she was still tired. She heard a groan behind her and realized slowly what the solid shaft cushioned between her cheeks were. Blushing scarlet red, she turned her head slowly to find Draco sleeping still. His arm was swung over her waist, his hand resting right over her breast. 

Hermione inhaled his scent and wiggled her bottom some more. Draco sleepily grabbed her breast and gave it a rough but sleepy squeeze. “Granger,” he scowled.

She rolled her body around and gently kissed his lips. His quartz grey eyes opened and they still mesmerized in the morning light. For a moment it took her breath away. His hand caressed her hips before giving her bottom a squeeze. Moving on top, Hermione straddled him. She moaned in relief as she lowered herself down over his hardness. She was amazed at how good he felt, all warm and solid underneath her. Pulling her nightdress off, she lowered both hands down to each side of his face and kissed him some more. 

He responded back gently, kneading and rubbing her breasts with his hands. Her knickers were getting wet with her arousal. She moved it up and down his shaft for relief.

Last night, it was Hermione who had insisted in following Draco to his bed, not wanting to be alone. By the time they hit the mattress, Draco had fallen asleep quite fast but Hermione had stayed up for some time, thinking about the events of the day. His hand, which she had held onto, had provided the comfort and security that she desperately needed. 

She moved her hips rubbing harder, taking him and his tongue deeper into her. “Granger, you are on dangerous grounds here,” he grounded against her lips.

“Are you protesting, Malfoy?” she managed to choke out as he pulled her forward to bring her breast to his lips. The use of their surnames reminded her so much of the tension they experienced growing up. His stubble rubbed against her sensitive skin as he squeezed and kiss her mounds.

“Not at all,” he replied. He watched as Hermione pulled away. She slid his boxers off and watched as his cock spring free. Kneeling between his legs, she ran her hand gently over his length, caressing lovingly. Making eye contact with Draco, she took him eagerly into her mouth. Draco’s eyes shut as he groaned in pleasure, bucking into her warm mouth. 

She sucked at the pre-cum that was on the tip, loving the saltiness of the taste, and slurped him. When he hit the back of her throat, she moaned in pleasure. She slid her tongue around him and squeezed and tugged the rest of him with her hand. 

Hermione lapped at him, kissing just the tip and then quickly taking the whole length in again. She teased him over and over, looking up to watch his reactions. She moved her head up and down, humming in the back gently, sucking as much as she can until her jaws started to tire. 

Draco pulled her up and rolled her over underneath him. His eyes were hazed with desired and his cock looked so stiff, Hermione reached for it. He grabbed her hand and pinned it above her head. His mouth was on her collarbone as he slipped his hand between her thighs. First he caressed her through her knickers, then when she protested, he pushed it to the side to touch her hot and dripping flesh. Hermione moaned, arching her body against his. She wanted to touch him but his hand held hers tightly. 

“Draco,” she moaned in satisfaction as he slipped his fingers in. He started off gently so she could stretch to accommodate and then he gradually increased the tempo. She ground herself against his fingers, wanting more. When her hands finally broke free to grab hold of his shoulders, she dug her nails in. She wanted him whole. He moved up to kiss her, his fingers still moving in and out. She kissed back eagerly. Her hand pulled at his hand between her legs and he gently slid his fingers out. 

Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, she used all her might and rolled them over so she was on top again. Hermione climbed off for a moment to take her knickers off. Draco watched her with hooded eyes.

When she straddled him once more, she slid her slit over the length of his cock. She was so wet that she moved easily. She did that for a few more seconds, teasing him, her soft brown eyes holding his simmering quartz ones.

She leaned forward to take bite his bottom lip. His strong arms wrap around her while his lips took dominance over hers. She aligned his tip of his cock to her opening and slowly lowered herself. He was very large and thick and she winced in pain as she took him in. He stilled underneath her, holding his breath, as he was slowly encased by her hot, slick, and tight flesh. Inch by inch he went in, until finally as if he could restrain no more, he bucked and pushed himself all the way in. Hermione gasped at the fullness. They stayed like that for a moment in silence with just their thundering hearts. Then Draco began to move slowly and Hermione, being rocked on top, held onto him, as the pain slowly became pleasure. 

She began to move as well, meeting his thrusts. Her lips on his once again as they desperately moved their bodies in rhythm to their needs. Bucking and biting, their pace became more frantic. 

Hermione pulled up and straighten her back as she rode Draco. At this angle, he was hitting a different part of her. His large hands gripped her hips, guiding her and giving her support. She moaned at the intensity of the feeling. She loved watching Draco beneath her. She leaned forward and he immediately snatched a dangling breast in his mouth. The intensity in Hermione’s center was increasing and she rode him harder, gasping every time he met her with his thrusts. Her nails making crescents in his shoulders as she gripped him. “Draco,” she moaned. “I’m so close.”

“Come for me, Hermione,” he groaned, thrusting his hips harder with every stroke. He let go of her hip with one hand and played with her nub, intensifying her pleasure. 

Hermione cried out at the added sensation. She ground herself harder against Draco as she rode out her way to her climax. His hands moved to grab her buttocks, moving her with him, impaling her harder. She came and it felt as if her being was released into a million pieces. She felt him tense underneath her as well and in that moment, he brought her head down so he could capture her lips in a breathtaking kiss as he came as well with a few harsh strokes. Hermione felt herself being filled with warmth that trickled down and out as if overfilled.

Spent and drained, Hermione laid against Draco too tired to move. She closed her eyes and simply listened to their rapid breaths slowing down and the sound of their hearts so in tandem. When Draco brought her hand to his lips for a tender kiss, she looked up and smiled up at him.


	16. Buttons

It was not in Hermione Granger’s personality to do things recklessly. Yet, she had no other words to describe what she had done that morning. She had initiated and taken Draco Malfoy for her own pleasure and there was no turning back. She also did not want to go back after experiencing what had to be the most fulfilling, pun not intended, sexual encounter she’s ever had. 

Currently, she was studying in the library but her mind was drifting so often, that she found it impossible to get work done. It was the weekends, so the library was quiet and empty as most students either chose to relax the day away or go outside where the weather was starting to chill but was not too unbearably cold. Hermione glanced out the window enviously watching the sunset. She wondered what Harry and Ron were up to. Were they chasing werewolves and fighting vampires, defeating their fears wholeheartedly? 

Banishing her insecure thoughts, Hermione decided it was time to leave. It was obvious that she wasn’t going to get any work done. She packed up her bags and left the empty library, feeling once again that something was not right when the library could not offer what she needed. 

Upon reaching her dormitory, she noticed a slight roll of parchment stuck to her door. Curiously, she unraveled it.

-  
Ms. Granger,

Since your hasty departure last night, I find myself worrying about your wellbeing. As you were not at breakfast, lunch, or in your chambers, I hope this note eventually finds its way to you. Please reply soon.

Your concerned professor,

Edward Piddypumpkins

-

Hermione shivered at the thought that Piddypumpkins had come near her dormitory. Her mind flashed back to the sadistic look of satisfaction he had on his face when he held her against her will to his chest.

Quickly she rushed inside and slammed the door shut behind her. Her empty bedroom did not feel safe any longer. She casted a few warding spells in paranoia and sat down on her bed. Her decision to return to Hogwarts was turning out to be a bad one. She had learnt absolutely nothing new so far and had a creepy professor following her movements about.

Draco was the only upside. She wondered if he was in his room. She opened the door to the common room to find it empty. She peered under his door but it was dark.

Crossing her legs, she sat by the fireplace, lighting it with wand. She peered into it while her body warmed up. Feeling restless, she stood up and paced around the room, eventually making her way to the window. 

It was quite dark outside now. The trees in the forest were snapping back and forth under the force of the wind. Hermione’s eyes follow the flight of birds into the sky. Were they birds or they bats? It was hard to tell in the dark. She glanced down at the lake and noticed a solidary figure standing near the edge, looking out. When the figure turned around and looked up, Hermione ducked down. She could recognize those heavy round frames anywhere.

Her wand arm struck out to extinguish all the lights, leaving her in complete darkness. Her heart was beating so fast, it felt like it was in her throat. Convinced that it was now too dark for Piddypumpkins to see her, Hermione slowly drew herself back up to look out the window, but he was no where to be seen. Confused, Hermione sank back down onto the floor and huddled there in silence.

Unconsciously, her hand pulled her sleeve up, and her fingers ran over the scar Bellatrix gave her. Mudblood. How the scar had become part of her until the boggart drew it back to the front of her mind once more. To be hunted and hated because of her blood status, because her parents were muggles. 

Hermione’s hand tightened around her arm with anger. She was made a victim once due to Bellatrix’s craziness. She would not be a victim again. She would not be cowed by Piddypumpkins. It was time she found out what he was up to.

In that moment, the door opened and Draco came in. He stood momentarily surprised at the darkness before lighting the fireplace. Hermione launched herself at him and surprised, he caught her in his arm. She kissed him fiercely, almost knocking him down against the wall. 

She didn’t want to admit it but she missed him terribly all day. She fought against it but seeing him in person, melt her defenses like ice cream in the middle of summer.

He kissed her back with equal passion, lifting her legs around his waist he dropped her down on the sofa. His hands were in her knickers before she realized. Arching up against him, Hermione moaned like a wanton. 

“Draco,” she gasped, her hands on his belt, tugging it off with daft fingers. Her hand reached down and grabbed his already hard shaft, pulling at it, wanting it.

“Hermione,” he groaned against her lips, pulling at her knickers, slipping them over her legs and tossing them onto the floor. He fingers caressed her and came away wet. 

“Yes,” she hissed as he slid in. The fullness she felt pushed all other thoughts from her mind. She felt complete. She could concentrate solely on the pleasure of the warm shaft deep inside her and the man in her arms. 

Draco began to move, thrusting slowly at first. When Hermione gripped his arms and demanded a faster pace, he let go of his restraint and bucked into her with the same desperation that she felt in her heart.

Hermione gasped as he pulled out all the way. 

“You weren’t there when I woke up,” he said cruelly, flipping her over onto her stomach. His mouth bit her neck as he parted her legs from behind.

Before Hermione could answer, he thrust into her again. She yelped gripping the softness of the velvet of the sofa under her. Again and again he pushed into her. She found it very difficult to answer him. 

“Draco,” she gasped out. The pace he was going was burning a desire in her. His hand reached under her blouse and grasped her breast. 

“You can’t even imagine all the things I want to do to you. Tell me you’ll let me,” He demanded in her ear.

“Yes, just don’t stop!” she cried out. Draco had been so wonderfully sweet all this time, seeing this rougher side was pushing at buttons that she didn’t even know she had. She liked a man who could take charge she realized.

She loved the feeling of his flesh smacking into hers and she wanted more. Arching her back she backed into him, thrust for thrust. He groaned and stilled, grasping her hips to stop her. “Hermione, if you keep doing that, I’m going to cum faster than I’d like.”

“Then do it,” she gasped out, shoving her hips out to meet him. “Then have me again.”

He smacked her bottom before pounding into her furiously. “You naughty little minx,” he snarled. When his hands tightened painfully on her soft skin and the hot jets of liquid filled her up inside, Draco slumped against her back. His breathed in ragged breaths of a man who ran a marathon. Hermione gently removed herself from him and turned around, a trail of cum sliding down her thigh. She pulled her skirt back down and sat on the floor. Holding Draco to her chest, her hand in his, she felt deeply satisfied. 

A little red bird sat on the window sill looking in once more.

 

***

Later when they were both cleaned and sitting in bed, Hermione passed Piddypumpkins’ note to Draco. Draco read it then crunched it in his hand and took out his wand. “Reducio,” he snarled blasting the note to pieces, as if pretending it was Piddypumpkins.

Hermione wrap her hand around his, lowering his wand and putting it aside. “I don’t know what he wants with me or why he keeps following me. I saw him out by the lake earlier tonight.” She said, half thoughtfully, both laying out the facts for Draco and herself analyze.

Her body felt so satisfyingly sore and tenderly bruised that even Piddypumpkins couldn’t put a damper on her. Sighing, she snuggled against Draco, her hand absently stroking him until he was hard again.

She felt the heat in his eyes and the hunger in her own soul.


	17. Veritaserum

Over the next few weeks, Hermione observed Piddypumpkins closely. As if sensing a shift in the way she was approaching him, Piddypumpkins became oddly distant. She watched him like a predator hunting a prey. She needed to know when he left his office, where he slept and what his schedule was like. The girls in the school were not of any help at all. They often got in the way as if shielding their beloved professor from Hermione. 

During the times she was not in class, she convinced Draco to practice dueling with her. He always hated it and held back as if afraid to accidently hurt her. Hermione, feeling frustrated, threatened to ask Neville for help her. Knowing full well that Neville could easily hurt her by accident, Draco finally grudgingly agreed to fight back just a little bit harder.

It was infuriating how easily Draco handled his wand. He deflected her attacks easily and shot back hexes at triple the speed she could go at. The only positive aspect of it all was that she was starting to get faster as well. Hermione Granger excelled at many things but defense and attack had never been one of them. These were things only physical practice could improve. Books and knowledge could only do so much.

Heading down to the Potions Laboratory after dinner, Hermione found Draco working hard over a cauldron while Nott yammered on by the side. Draco had his sleeves rolled up. With his hair ruffled from the heat of the room and his face tensed with concentration, Hermione felt slightly achy between the legs. She bit her bottom lip as her mind started to wander into dangerously naughty places.

“Granger!” Nott shouted, pulling her from her reverie. 

“Hello,” Hermione replied, arching a brow at Nott.

He grinned back at her, his dark eyes twinkling as if he was a skill legilimens.

Nott amused her with his easy smiles. She didn’t quite know what to think of him just yet. He was definitely a lot more magically gifted than anyone had given him credit for and with his easy going, devil may care attitude no one expected it of him. 

“Have a seat,” he patted at the stool beside him.

Draco finally looked up to shoot him an annoyed look. Hermione ignored Nott and walked over to inspect the potion that Draco was working on. It was a bubbling, yellow substance that smelled like cleaning solution. Hermione bent her head to look at Draco’s textbook. The casual brush of her body against his sent little shivers down her core. When Draco tensed as well, she knew she had the same effect on him. Quickly pushing down the smirk that had made its way on her face, Hermione glanced at Nott and blushed. He was watching them with amusement.  
Draco was making Veritaserum.

“My own private batch,” Draco said as if answering the question she was thinking. “Or at least I’m trying to get it to work properly. It’s suppose to be clear by now,” he ran a hand through his hair, staring down at his cauldron as if willing it to become clear.

Hermione glanced through the book, trying to figure out what could cause the potion to become yellow instead of clear. She looked at the cauldron, then at the book again. Before she could answer, Nott spoke.

“You didn’t use the marker. Every stir needs to stop at the exact spot,” he came around pensively observing the cauldron.

Draco let out an exasperated sigh. “Why didn’t you say so the first time?”

“I’m just here for the company,” Nott grinned. “Besides, I wasn’t really paying attention ‘til now. Granger makes me want to learn.” He wagged his eyebrows animatedly.

He froze in his steps as Hermione’s wand was at his throat. “What do you mean?” she asked coldly.

Nott put his hands up in the air in surrender. “I simply mean that it’s no fun knowing everything if there’s no one to compete with.”

Hermione lowered her wand in relief. “If you were trying to insinuate something else, I would’ve killed you.”

“Only after I’ve been through with him,” Draco growled, not pleased at how Nott’s comment came out either.

“You two are so tense,” Nott whined. “With the amount of banging being done, I would’ve thought you’ve gotten all your frustrations out.”

“Levicorpus!” Draco swung Nott upside down with his wand while Hermione’s face turned crimson in embarrassment.

“I thought you were suppose to be smart,” Hermione muttered. She attempted to look busy by going through Draco’s potion’s kit so she wouldn’t have to look at Nott. Finding the stabilizer, she placed a few drops into Draco’s cauldron. Immediately the yellow subsided to a white. It wasn’t clear as Veritaserum needed to be but it was better. At least this new substance would be safe to pour out.

“Ugh! I’m brilliant. I simply suggested I knew and you’ve basically confessed! Even an idiot would have realized that you two have done the deed. Draco doesn’t show up one day, looking like a triumphant cock without getting some –“

“Silencio,” Draco jabbed his wand at Nott, looking quite pink. 

Hermione didn’t think it was possible to get more embarrassed but perspiration was starting to drip from her temple to her face. With a wave of her wand, she went to empty the potion. Draco glared daggers at his friend and watched as his face go red from lack of oxygen.

“Now, if you promise to behave, I’ll let you down,” Nott nodded eagerly. With an extra jab of his wand, Draco released him. 

Nott fell to the floor ungracefully and rubbed his elbows while glaring at Draco crossly. 

“What’s the Veritaserum for?” Hermione asked curiously. She lifted up the book and brushed her fingers along the spine. It was simply titled “Potions IV” in golden thread that was embroidered onto the green cloth cover. She didn’t recognize it from the library and it was definitely not one of their textbooks. Veritaserum was a valuable potion that required the utmost care and precision. Sold in small batches, not only was it very expensive to purchase it but one also needed a license either as a magical law official or educator. It was definitely beyond the skills of a student to create. Hermione felt excited as she leafed through the book, spotting some more elusive and rare potion recipes. “Where’d you get this?”

“It was my grandfather’s. He collected recipes,” Draco replied watching Hermione’s joy as if it was something that fed him as well. His long fingers brushed against hers as he reached to turn the page back to Veritaserum. “I thought perhaps we could spike some in Piddypumpkins’ juice.”

Hermione’s eyes glowed as she looked up at Draco. If Nott were not there, she was so excited she could’ve kissed Draco.

Nott cleared his throat. “Now this is getting awkward so I’m going to go find Blaise and seek some other type of entertainment.”

“Well if you’re not going to be much of a help anyways, mind as well not get in the way,” Draco grumbled, already heading back to the supply cabinets without looking at Nott. 

“See you later, Granger” Nott winked playfully at Hermione. 

She blushed and waved him goodbye.

Once the door closed, Hermione felt Draco come up behind her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his face in the crook of her neck. She held still as she waited for his touch. Her core was already achy with anticipation. Draco simply nibbled her ear. One hand drifted under her skirt to caress her buttocks. Hermione gasped and looked at the door.

“Draco!” she gasped. “Anyone can walk in!”

His voice was heavy with desire as he replied, “Adds a bit of excitement, doesn’t it?” He rubbed his hardness against her bottom. “Are you wet, Hermione?” 

She moaned. Her rational thoughts banished momentarily as she found herself hot and wanting. When he flipped her skirt up, she jumped. “Pink today, hmm?” 

Hermione pushed away and pulled her skirt down bristly. “We’ve got work to do!” she said indignantly. Rolling up her sleeve, she hustled around to the other side of the table to put some distance between them. If she didn’t, they might very well have ended up on the table… or on the floor. Draco gave her a pout that reminded her all too well that he was not used to being denied. She stuck her tongue out at him.

Draco scowled, “I’m going to put that tongue to good use later.”

Hermione smiled and licked her top lip teasingly.

***

 

“I quite like Nott and Zabini,” Hermione said as she patrolled the halls with Draco later that night. “They’re funny and nice,” she beamed up at him.

Draco smiled back down. “When they’re not being idiots, they’re decent,” he replied.

“I can’t imagine Zabini ever being an idiot,” Hermione pictured Blaise Zabini in her mind. All the times that she’s ever encountered him, he’s always been the picture of grace. 

“Oh, he has his moments… especially when he realizes there’s no one to impress,” Draco chuckled. “We all grew up together,” his tone shifted to a more serious one. “In a society of purebloods, there are only so many people you can meet.”

“Nott’s father’s in Azkaban as well isn’t he?” she asked Draco hesitantly.

“Yes. He was a Death Eater.”

“Did Nott ever …” she glanced at Draco, not wanting to finish the sentence. Her eyes glanced down to his arm. Draco’s dark mark was there. He didn’t bother hiding it as everyone knew he had been a Death Eater after being tried when the war ended. Hermione didn’t know when it happened but the sight of the dark mark no longer bothered her. It was simply a part of Draco and she’s accepted it. 

“No,” Draco replied stiffly, staring straight ahead. “He didn’t agree with his father’s views and went into hiding.” Hermione realized Draco was probably thinking of Lucius Malfoy. Although they had not been close as children, even Hermione knew Draco had wanted nothing more than to impress his father. She saw it in every interaction she’s witnessed of the Malfoy family.

“Draco,” Hermione stopped in her steps and grabbed Draco’s hand to stop him as well. She threw her arms around him and pressed her ear to his heart. The strong steady beat brought her a sense of comfort that steadied her own. He was here with her right now. It was all that mattered. “We all make mistakes, especially for those we love.” She couldn’t offer to say more as she could never know truly what Draco’s been through. She could only offer her comfort in this very moment. He hugged her back tenderly.


	18. The Halloween Party Pt.1

There wasn’t much progress in Hermione’s trail of Piddypumpkins. She would’ve thought he was avoiding her entirely if it weren’t for the occasional times she caught him staring at her. Even after watching him for weeks, there was no clear schedule to his days besides when he taught his lessons. This made it hard for Hermione to sneak into his office. The Veritaserum was coming along nicely but needed time to fully ferment.

One morning, a Ministry envelope arrived for Hermione. It contained an official invitation to the Halloween Party that Harry had mentioned in his letter. It would be formal wear and she was allowed to bring one guest.

***

“Would you allow it, Professor?” Hermione asked McGonagall. Regardless of what McGonagall decides, Hermione had already considered it a done deal. She was not leaving this office until Draco was given permission to go with her to the Ministry Halloween Party.

McGonagall took off her spectacle and stared at her quill. “I don’t know, Ms. Granger. Mr. Malfoy didn’t particularly sit well with the Ministry given the history of his family,” she replied.

“Draco isn’t like his father. The Malfoys have supported the Ministry for such a long time. They should not be banished simply because of Lucius Malfoy’s actions!” Hermione persisted. “Dumbledore believed in Draco. I know you do too. After all you’ve made him Head Boy,” Hermione pleaded. “He’s caused absolutely zero trouble since coming back, not even when everyone else is so horrid to Slytherins. How can you expect Slytherins to be rid of people’s bias when you exclude them from events that would allow others to get to know them better?” Hermione demanded. Under the table, her hand was digging marks into her other hands. She felt anxious on the inside but she wasn’t going to back down from this one.

McGonagall continued to look pensive.

“It’s only one night, Professor. I’m the one inviting him. I simply need your permission for him to leave the school. Please,” Hermione leaned forward in her chair.

“Fine,” McGonagall agreed. “Since arrangements have already been made to allow you, Ms. Weasley, and Mr. Longbottom out of the school, it would not hurt to have Mr. Malfoy tag along either.” She stood up, bearing her full height down on Hermione. “I expect him on his best behavior and will hold you responsible for his actions, Ms. Granger.”

Hermione practically jumped with joy. “Thank you, Professor McGonagall! You’ll not regret it!”

***

Hermione tuck her hands in her jacket pocket. The leaves were changing colours and the sun was out. It was such a beautiful day. 

“You seem to be in an exceptional mood,” Draco remarked looking down at her. 

Hermione smiled and glanced at him from head to toe appreciatively. He looked simply divine in a long black wool coat jacket. “How could I not be when I’m enjoying such a beautiful day with such handsome a young man?” she teased. 

Draco smirked and held out his hand. Hermione reached for it without thinking twice. They were in Hogsmeade to run a few errands for McGonagall. Away from the eyes of students and teachers, Hermione always took the opportunity to be more openly affectionate.

“The Ministry is holding a Halloween Party,” she glanced at Draco. His lips had tightened at the mention of the ministry. “They’ve invite me, of course…I was wondering,” she held her breath, heart hammering in her chest. “Would you come with me?” she lifted her eyes to look into his beautiful quartz ones. “As my date.”

“They hate me, Hermione,” Draco replied after a moment’s pause, tension all over his face. 

“I think it would be really good for your reintegration,” Hermione said gently. “You’ve told me once that you would like to be a part of society again remember?” She bit her lips, “and you know, me being a ‘war heroine’ or whatever, will surely help your image if I can vouch for your reformed character,” she smiled at him nervously.

Draco looked deep in thought. She could tell that he didn’t really want to go but was considering the things being said. “It’s like me asking you to come to a Death Eater event.”

“But you’re not a Death Eater anymore,” Hermione insisted. If Draco really did not want to go, she wasn’t going to force him. Strategically thinking, it would be a really good opportunity for him to repair damage relationships though. “You’re an amazing person and I’d like for everyone to see that as well. However, if you truly don’t wish to go, then we shall stay. It doesn’t matter to me anyways. We’ll find our own fun for the night.”

Draco lifted her chin with his hand and looked down at her contemplatively. Bending his head, he kissed her gently. Hermione responded back eagerly as she always does. “Alright,” he grudgingly agreed. “But if anyone steps one toe out of line, I put them in their place.”

“Yes! I’ll be right beside you in doing so too!” Hermione danced away, hoping down the road in a manner more suited for Luna Lovegood, then Hermione Granger.

Draco chased after her.

***

Hermione nervously fidgeted as she glanced in the mirror. A few bottles of Sleekeazys later, her hair was once again a shinning chignon with a few tendrils framing her face. Her face was gently done up with makeup following a trend that she found on the cover of Witch Weekly’s. She wore a backless midnight blue dress that cinched in at the waist and flared out in wispy pleats all the way to the floor. It was covered in little pieces of sparkling gold that reminded her of twinkling constellations in the night sky. Her heels were the highest she could walk in without breaking an ankle. She felt like a newborn doe. Hesitantly, she opened her door to the Common Room. 

Draco lounged on a chair staring into the fire. He turned his head as Hermione stepped out. His eyes burned with lust as he looked at her from head to toe. Meeting her halfway, he pulled her against him and squeezed her butt. “Is it too late to request staying in? Or perhaps we could have a little quickie.” He whispered huskily in her ear.

“Draco!” Hermione laughed. A quickie did sound appealing, especially when Draco looked so deliciously handsome. He wore a custom fitted suit that looked as if it was made for him. On an average day, Hermione would say he was classically handsome but right now, Hermione found it hard to look at him at all without blushing and stuttering like an infatuated schoolgirl. “Perhaps afterwards,” she replied coyly. Her hand reached out to caress the bulge that was apparent in his tailored pants.

“Afterwards?” Draco smirked at her, moving just out reach. “I don’t think so.” 

Hermione’s heart was in her throat as Draco knelt down. His grey eyes held hers wickedly as he lifted her skirt and disappeared underneath. She let out a moan as she felt his hands parting her legs and sliding her underwear off. When his mouth close around her sex, she leaned back against the shelf for support. She felt him lapping and sucking her slit. His tongue doing magically things that made her feel so hot and achy. Her hands gripped the edges of the shelf, her nails digging into the wood. His fingers teased her and she desperately wanted to be filled but Draco kept licking and caressing. Hermione whimpered with need, bucking and grinding herself further against Draco’s mouth. When he pulled away, she protested.

Reappearing from underneath her skirt, Draco stood up and dabbed his lips with his handkerchief. “I believe we are ready to go,” he grinned wickedly at her.

Hermione scowled at him. She could feel herself dripping down her thighs with need. Her body felt like it was ignited with need and there wasn’t a rational thought in her mind. It didn’t matter that they were going to be late. Pushing Draco down onto the arm of the sofa, she kissed him roughly. She could taste herself in his mouth and it felt so wicked. Her hands quickly undid the front of his pants, freeing his cock into her hands. To her delight, it was ready and hard. She stroked it and watched Draco’s eyes close with pleasure. She leaned against him for support and lifted one leg onto the sofa. Pulling the front of her skirt up, she lowered herself onto him, moaning and keening in relief as she stretched to accommodate him.

“My naughty Granger,” Draco groaned as he lifted her other leg so she straddled him.

“You started it,” Hermione moaned. She loved the way his thick shaft was all the way inside, every inch of it filling her so fully. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she began riding Draco as hard as she could. He bucked underneath her with restraint, his hands grabbing her round buttocks. In this position, he was hitting all the right areas. She slammed down on him again and again. Already extremely aroused from the loving his mouth gave her, Hermione found her released quickly. She sobbed his name as she came and collapsed against his chest.

Lifting her lashes to look at Draco, Hermione blushed. 

“You look so beautiful tonight,” Draco said. There was a tenderness in his eyes as he looked at her, all flushed and blushing from her orgasm. When his fingers gently brushed her cheek, Hermione felt her heart flutter. It always caught her off guard whenever Draco looked at her like this. It made her feel both happy and afraid at the same time. She felt happy because it genuinely made her so, yet afraid because these things were starting to really mean something deep to her. 

Slowly, she lifted herself off him. She looked at his still hard cock and stopped his hand as he attempted to tuck himself back in his pants. She knelt down on the floor, her eyes on his, and took him into her mouth. She sucked him off with the hunger she felt in her soul and when his hot cum splashed against the back of her throat, she drank it all down. 

***

The carriage ride to the disapparation point was awkward to say the least. After Draco and Hermione’s little session, Hermione had to charm their clothes back to looking perfect but nothing could hide the satisfaction that was oozing out of their pores. Neville and Ginny were already waiting. Whether they suspected anything, they did not say. They all sat in the carriage in silence. 

Hermione had avoided Ginny since the day Ginny had left her behind with Piddypumpkins. Although Ginny had confronted Hermione a few times about it, Hermione had always brushed it aside without ever speaking of what actually happened. When news had broke out that Hermione had attacked Piddypumpkins, no one questioned whether he had deserved it. They had rather believed that Hermione was unstable from the traumas of the war. Draco had been the only one there for her and that was something Hermione held in her heart. 

Finally reaching the point, Hermione placed her arm in Draco’s and off they went. 

The mansion that stood before them was enormous. It reminded Hermione of Malfoy Mansion, were it to be lit up and decorated for festivities. She glanced at Draco. He stood silently taking the place in as if thinking the same thing. Together they made their way up the stairs after Neville and Ginny. Aurors lined the entrance as guests pulled in either by apparition or carriages.

Heads turned and whispers filled the air as people spotted Draco. Hermione held onto his arm tighter in support. Holding her head up high, she stared coldly at the onlookers. 

Ballroom music wafted out from the great opened doors. As she approached closer, she could see a symphony of musicians. Just like the ministry to call something a party when it was in actuality a ball, she thought. Seeing as this was the first official event after the war, Hermione had suspected it would be big to rouse people’s moral and to celebrate. 

A thin dome of light covered the building. Hermione recognized it as a powerful variation of a truth charm. Passing through would it would likely pull off the disguise of any imposter. Security was tight tonight. The aurors seem to tense up as Hermione and Draco approached closer. 

Kingsley Shaklebolt stood at the entrance with other important members of the ministry welcoming the guests in. As Hermione and Draco passed through the charm, Kingsleys eyes fell on her warmly and then froze as he spotted Draco.

“Kingsley,” Hermione greeted warmly.

“Hermione, you look lovely as always.” He replied, then looked over at Draco.

“My guest,” Hermione gave Kingsley her most charming smile. “Mr. Draco Malfoy.” She could feel Draco stiff beside her. All the eyes on him were hostile, cold, and defensive.

“Yes, I am familiar with the Malfoys,” Kingsley said. When he reached out his hand to shake Draco’s, Hermione nearly fainted with relief. “Welcome, my boy.”

Draco shook it politely. “Minister,” he greeted.

Just like that the introductions were done. Hermione and Draco went in. For a moment, Hermione felt dazzled by the grandiose of everything. There were many people, all dressed in their finest. Hundreds of floating lights hung above by magic mimicking the night sky and a large crystal chandelier hung from the endless ceiling. Draco led her onward so as to not obstruct other guests coming in. The room quieted at the sight of the pair and parted a path as they approached.

“It seems like we have the ability to render everyone speechless,” Hermione said to Draco. Her eyes scanned the room for a familiar face.

“So it seems,” Draco replied. 

Hermione’s head turned as she heard someone call her name. 

“Mr. and Mrs. Weasley!” she beamed at the couple making their way towards them. The Weasleys came towards Hermione and Draco, both looking surprised to see Draco.

“Draco,” Mr. Weasley greeted.

Draco nodded and held out his hand, which Mr. Weasley shook in surprised.

“It’s so good to see you again. You both look lovely, especially you, Mrs. Weasley.” Hermione complimented. Letting go of Draco’s arm, she hugged the Weasleys.

“When Arthur told me you’d be here, I was absolutely thrilled, dear,” Mrs. Weasleys eyes sparkled with tears.

Hermione felt her heart pinch with a bit of guilt. Molly had lost a noticeable amount of weight after the war, undoubtedly from her grief over Fred. Moving away from the Weasleys after Ron’s betrayal had been hard for Hermione. The Weasleys were the closest to parents that she had at the moment. She felt tears prickle her own eyes and moved back to grip Draco’s arm for support. “I’ve missed you both. I’m sorry I haven’t written. It’s been so busy with school.”

“Don’t you worry about it, dear,” Molly replied. “Arthur and I have always known you take your studies seriously. You’re still like a daughter to us even if – “ she stopped. “I mean, we owe it to Mr. and Mrs. Granger –“ she stopped again awkwardly, glancing at Draco.

Hermione felt heat spread across her face. Mr. Weasley suddenly spotted another acquaintance and dragged Mrs. Weasley away.

Draco and Hermione walked around the edges of the room, watching couples dance in the centre. Some witches and wizards came forward to greet Hermione who in turned immediately introduced Draco. Most people knew Draco as well, though they were more reluctant to strike up conversation with him. The Malfoys had indeed fallen from grace and most didn’t seem to want to risk the association. To Draco’s credit, he behaved the perfect gentleman even when it was so cleared that people were trying to avoid him. It hurt Hermione to see Draco being treated like this.

“Would you like to dance, Hermione?” Draco asked. “It’s quite awkward standing here being a spectacle for everyone to stare at. We mind as well enjoy the music.”

“Oh but I haven’t danced in such a long time,” Hermione replied nervously. 

“I’ll lead,” Draco said, taking her hand and guiding her onto the dance floor. Hermione flushed with pleasure as Draco placed his hand on the small of her waist. The tips of his fingers brushed against the bare skin of her back, sending shivers of delight down her body. With her hand in his, he guided her in rhythm to the music. He was a fantastic dancer and when he twirled her around, Hermione felt like she was floating. The skirt on her dress bloomed out like petals of a flower making her feel both whimsical and beautiful at the same time. She beamed at him in full trust and her heart beat fast against her ribs as he smiled back at her. It felt as if it were just the two of them.

Around and around they danced. Hermione loved every moment of it. If someone had told her that someday she’d be dancing with Draco, she would’ve laughed, but in this moment, she realized, there was nothing she’d rather be doing. He was like an essence that fed her until she was full and alive again. She laughed out loud as he spun her out and when he pulled her back in, he caught her with his strong arms. Looking up, she felt the pull of his gaze and without thinking, reached up as if to kiss him. 

Suddenly the song ended and Hermione blushed as she realized that there was probably more than a dozen pair of eyes watching them. Draco reluctantly let go of her and led her off to the side where a large waterfall of champagne was flowing. He filled a flute for her and then one for himself.

“Hermione!” She looked up as she saw Harry leading Ron and Marissa heading towards her.

“Harry!” she responded a little louder than she’d like. Placing her drink down, she launched herself into Harry’s embrace. She didn’t even realize how much she missed her best friend until this moment.

Harry grinned at her. “I’m so glad you came.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the chance to see everyone again,” Hermione half meant it. Her eyes glanced over to Ron, who stared at her awkwardly then at Draco, fist clenched, and then quickly over to Marissa, as if nodding hello. She couldn’t help but take notice of the way Marissa was heatedly assessing Draco.

“Malfoy,” Harry said reaching out his hands to Draco.

“Potter,” Draco shook Harry’s hand stiffly.

“Draco’s my guest,” Hermione explained to Harry, placing her hand on Draco’s arm again. “He kindly agreed to come with me.” She beamed with an enthusiasm that wasn’t quite there. As much as she enjoyed Harry’s company, it was awkward with Ron and Marissa there.

“Draco, is it now? On first name basis after what his family has done,” Ron spat out furiously.

Hermione glared at him. Anger started bubbling in her chest.

“Oh, Hermione and I’ve made peace over that,” Draco drawled out coolly, placing his hand on the small of Hermione’s naked back intimately. His eyes were both burning and possessive as he gazed at her. Hermione blushed furiously. Harry looked surprised, as his eyes darted from Draco to Hermione back and forth as if trying to make sense of what was going on.

Ron’s mouth dropped open, staring at Draco’s hand. Huffing, he stalked off and Marissa, to her credit, quickly followed after him.

“Sorry,” Harry said, scratching his head apologetically. “I know Ron was quite excited to see you tonight. I don’t know what’s gotten into him.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Hermione replied. It was typical Ron behavior and she wasn’t going to let it spoil her night.


	19. The Halloween Party Pt. 2

Hermione Granger was having a pretty good time. Champagne flute in hand, beautiful dress on, and great live music playing. Harry was bringing Draco and her around the room, introducing them to influential people he knew. If people didn’t accept Draco based on Hermione’s association, they definitely change their tune now Harry Potter was in the mix. It might be all show but it was a start.

Hermione nearly jumped when she felt a hand latch onto her arm roughly. She turned in surprise and saw Ron. 

“We need to talk,” he said as he pulled her away with him. 

Hermione glanced over her shoulders at Harry and Draco, but they were busy talking to a group of elderly wizards. She quickly followed Ron out of the ballroom as to not cause a scene. He led her at a brisk pace down the empty corridor to an empty study and slammed the door shut behind him.

Hermione massage her wrist, which hurt from Ron’s tight grip. She glared at him. “What do you want, Ron?”

“Malfoy? Malfoy of all people?” Ron was seething. Even with her heels on, Ron still towered over her with his gangly six foot four frame. 

“Yes, DRACO,” Hermione replied. There was a coil in her chest. 

“You mind as well have sex on that dance floor, the way you two kept touching and rubbing up on each other’s bodies!” Ron hissed in disgust.

“Sex?” Hermione roared back in rage. Her cheeks were flaming. She backed away from Ron, trying to put space between them but he grabbed her wrist again. “Don’t be a child, Ron.”

“I know what you’re doing. You’re trying to make me jealous,” Ron said, his face coming dangerously close to hers. He looked positively maniacal.

Feeling trapped and suffocated, Hermione pulled her wrist but he wouldn’t let go. “Unhand me right now!” she demanded. When he wouldn’t, her other hand slapped him across the face. 

He finally let go and clutched his cheek, staring at Hermione incredulously, as if not believing she had hit him. 

Hermione’s eyes filled with tears. At one point Ron had meant so much to her. Not only had he been her boyfriend, he had been her best friend and the person she considered her life partner. She hadn’t been able to forget him no matter how hard she had tried. However in this moment, it was clear that he would never be enough for her. 

She steadied herself against the desk, taking deep breaths to recompose herself. “I’m not trying to make you jealous, Ron. I-I don’t feel the same way towards you that I did before.” 

Ron was shaking his head as if refusing to accept what she was saying.

Hermione looked him in the eyes. “I saw you that night in the summer. I followed you to The Sleepy Egg. I heard you… with Marissa.” It felt as if a heavy burden was lifted off her chest as she confessed for the first time.

Ron’s blue eyes widen in shock. His mouth opened and closed a few times as if he didn’t know what to say. Finally he spoke, “It isn’t like that. S-she-“

“I don’t care anymore,” Hermione cut him off. “You betrayed me, Ron.” Tears streamed down her cheeks against her will. Hermione took advantage of his shock and slipped past him to the door.

“You’ll come back. You always do,” Ron shouted after her.

“Not this time,” Hermione replied. She wrenched the door open and fled. 

***

After locking herself in the washroom, Hermione stared into the large mirror. She pulled out her compact from her drawstring purse and quickly touched up on her makeup. Her eyes were still rimmed with redness but it will have to do. She had been out of the ballroom for too long.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione straightened herself and walked back into the ballroom with as much dignity as she could gather. Luckily no one seemed to take notice of her as the party was in full swing. Everyone appeared to be enjoying themselves immensely, be it dancing, socializing, or eating.

She spotted the drinks fountain, which was no long flowing champagne but some kind of bubbly clear liquid. Quickly, she filled a glass and gulped it all down. It tasted like the freshest apples on a cool autumn day with the punch of a bubbly fizz that burned on the way down her throat. It was extremely satisfying and she instantly felt better. Drinking her second glass at a more leisurely pace, she looked around the room. 

“Careful, there’s quite a bit of bubblies in that one.”

Hermione turned her head and saw Harry approaching. She felt an enormous sense of comfort. 

“It’s quite tasty!” she replied with enthusiasm to cover up how she was truly feeling.

“Oh, I know. Look at Trevor over there,” Harry pointed to what appeared to be wizard giggling and floating in the air.

“Oh my,” Hermione quickly put her drink back down. 

“So is this another Cormac situation?” Harry asked.

“No,” Hermione’s lips tightened. “This has absolutely nothing to do with Ron.”

“I figured you two had another fight. I just saw him and now I see you,” Harry replied gently. “Look Hermione, you two are my best friends but I hate seeing you hurt like this year and year again,” Harry paused as he filled his own glass of bubblies. “It hasn’t been easy being the middle man.”

“It’s different this time, Harry,” Hermione replied, picking up her glass again. She was going to need her liquid courage. “Everyone thinks this is about Ron again but it’s not. I genuinely don’t give a fig about him anymore. So please, let everyone know that they need to stop pushing me back at him.” Hermione downed her glass. 

“I like him. He’s changed.” Harry said slowly and Hermione knew he meant Draco. 

“Yes, he has,” Hermione spotted Draco in the sea of dancers, dancing with a plump, middle-aged witch with greying hair. As if sensing her eyes, he looked over. Hermione felt tingly all over. “I like him as well,” she replied, her heart beating fast. She knew she had started to more than just ‘like’ Draco Malfoy. 

When the song ended, Draco came towards them. Tall and lean, Draco made Hermione’s mouth water with the simple virility of his grace. His eyes were solely on her and she felt the pull of a connection. She bit her lip as he approached, her heart racing. 

“Potter if I may, I’d like to take my date back,” he addressed Harry but his gleaming grey eyes were still on Hermione. Hermione blushed and placed her hand into Draco’s outreached one.

“Uh, sure,” Harry replied looking a bit flustered at being caught in between them.

“Where’d you go off to? When I turned around, you were gone,” Draco said as he and Hermione walked out onto the balcony overlooking the gardens. The garden was simply lit with fairy lights. It was a nice retreat for dancers to take rest away from party. The music could still be heard but not as loudly and curtains shield them from the eyes in the ballroom. For Hermione, it was a nice retreat to rest her mind from all the things that had happened that night. There were other dancers taking recluse on the many stone benches that were placed sporadically throughout the garden and she could see them from where they stood.

Hermione breathed in the fresh, cool night air and closed her eyes. “I had a chat with an old friend,” she replied, deciding that it might not be a good idea to tell Draco the truth entirely.

“Oh?” he replied. “And are you all caught up now?”

“Yes,” Hermione replied. She was indeed all caught up. She knew with every fiber in her body that her romantic love for Ron had ended. She had suspected for some time now but seeing him in person and absolutely feeling nothing but pity and fury reaffirmed her belief. She felt pain for the years that they had spent together and the love they had shared back then. However, there was nothing left now.

When a new song started, Draco took Hermione’s hands and placed them around his shoulders. He wrapped his own around his waist. Although initially surprised, Hermione then rest her head against his hard chest and they began swaying to the music.

“So tell me, what happened to Mr. and Mrs. Granger?” Draco asked.

Hermione’s throat tightened. “What do you mean?”

“Their names have come up here and there, but nothing seems to make sense. I feel as if I’m missing some important bit of information.”

Hermione closed her eyes and concentrated on the feel of Draco’s body against hers. When she felt appropriately in control of her emotions, she replied, “I obliviated my parents at the start of the war and put them in hiding.”

“And you haven’t went to find them since?” Draco asked. There was no judgment in his voice, only curiosity.

“It’s too complicated to reverse obliviation. There are so many things that can go wrong.” She froze as she choked up. There it was, something Hermione Granger could not do. She held Draco tighter, breathing in his scent. “And besides, they’re perfectly happy not knowing they had a daughter at all.”

Draco held her comfortingly, his hand cupping the back of her head, pressing her closer. They continued gently rocking to their own rhythm as if it were just the two of them again.


	20. What a Malfoy Considers Making Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title should explain it all. This chapter is purely shameless smut.

By the end of the night, Hermione was starting to feel tired. She had spent most of the party making small talk, putting pretty smiles on, and engaging in things that really did not matter to her what so ever. She missed her room, the silence, and the isolation. She liked that she could catch up with Harry and a few other old friends but the feeling that she was out of place was always there. Everyone seemed to have grown up and was off in the world pursuing their careers in the fantastic ways that being a war hero had launched them into and in comparison, she had made no real growth.

Draco, in tuned to Hermione’s state, excused them from the party when he noticed her exhaustion. Ron, who was near them at this point, scowled but said nothing. He had made no more efforts to speak to Hermione that night, rather taking in the comfort and company of his family and Marissa.

Draco’s eyes gleamed mischieviously as they stood outside the manor at the apparition points. Hermione placed her hand on his arm and allowed him to take the lead. When they arrived at their destination, she realized that they weren’t at Hogsmeade but rather outside a glittering, palatial building overlooking the ocean.

“Where are we?” she asked, bewildered. She could hear the roars of the waves as they crashed into the shores below. The moon hung bright in the sky, reflecting off the dark surface of the water.

“This…” Draco swept his hands at the building, “Is The Hungry Wyvern Hotel.”

Hermione blushed. “Draco!” 

“Come on, Hermione. I’m tired of sleeping on the less than subpar beds of Hogwarts,” he said, pulling her towards the entrance. 

“I think Hogwarts beds are amazing!” she disagreed, dragging her heels. Her heart was beating against the cage of her ribs.

“Then, you my dear, have been missing out,” Draco stated. He stopped in his tracks, tired of pulling her. Cupping her face with his hands, his grey eyes glittered in the moonlight. “I want to make love to you, Hermione. Not in some dingy student bed but on the best bed that money can buy. Now if you don’t stop resisting, I’m going to carry you in and those employees know damn well better than to stop a Malfoy.”

Hermione was speechless but she stopped resisting. Her mind was circling around the words ‘make love’. 

They climbed up the steps in which the magnificent glass doors swung open to reveal a grand lobby with truly high ceilings. Everything was so shiny that Hermione almost had to shield her eyes from the splendor. This was definitely no Leaky Cauldron and even The Sleepy Egg seemed like a low class motel in comparison. Soft and gentle music came from all around giving the place a soft sleepy ambience. Hermione stood there awkwardly as she glanced around while Draco procured the room key at the desk where three witches, dressed in formal green dress robes stood. After doing so, he lead her up onto a golden elevator with wooden décor that launched them up onto the 30th floor.

When the elevator gates opened, Hermione watched with amazement as a second set of wooden doors slid opened for them. Hermione stepped in the massive room. There was a roaring fire in the fireplace already so heat immediately enveloped her. Draco closed the door behind him. It was all obsidian, wood, and gold. The room exuded luxury that only the very well off could afford. There was a vanity dresser with a large mirror, a truly massive wooden four-poster bed with sheer curtains facing the fireplace, and a love seat in front of a bookshelf filled with books. Hermione gasp as she saw the wall, or what should’ve been one. It was simply glass. The entire wall was glass over looking the ocean. With the firelight in the room, much of the glass reflected the room but as she approached it, she placed her hands on either sides of her face so she could see outside. She could see the ocean, it’s enormity making her feel small, the moon like a burning bulb in the sky, the rocks which were dark and ragged, and the mermaids frolicking outside. The view was no doubt magnificent in the morning.

Draco came up behind her and wrapped his hands around her waist. When she’s had her fill of the view, she turned around and allowed him to kiss her lips passionately. The glass felt wonderfully cool against her bare back. Kneeling before her, he slipped her heels off. The obsidian floor felt cool under her feet as he led her over to stand before the large vanity table.

She could hardly recognize the person looking back. Her lips were rosy and swollen, sinfully obvious from kissing. Her eye makeup had smudged giving her sultry eyes a round almond, almost feline shape. 

Their eyes met in the mirror. His large hands were on her shoulders. Holding her gaze, he undid her dress from behind and Hermione watched as he slowly tugged the shoulders of her dress. As the dress was backless she hadn’t bothered wearing a bra, choosing instead to charm her dress to hug her body instead. No underwear was on either. He had taken it from her during their earlier session. She couldn’t take her eyes off of Draco as her dress fell to a puddle at her feet. It was erotic the way her exposed creamy skin contrast with how fully clothed he still was. He pulled the pins from her hair and they both watched as it cascade in soft waves down her back. She was completely naked in his hands. 

Hermione couldn’t help the wetness that seeped between her legs. The image in the mirror was making her hot. Draco’s golden beauty was in its element with elegance in his formal clothes that did little to distract from his lean and strong form. The way his eyes were both smoldering yet hard quartz that glint with want. His sensuous mouth looked like it was made for wicked things.

Draco’s hand ran down slowly from her shoulders, down her hips and up again to cup her breasts. They felt heavy in his hands. Her nipples were already little gems of sensitivity. A little moan escaped Hermione’s lips as he squeezed gently, his thumbs brushing against her nipples in the lightest of touches. She watched as he bent his neck to brush his lips gently against her neck. The kisses trail down her shoulders while his hands slip from her breasts and down her hips. She clenched her legs as she felt the ache burning in her core. She yearned for his touch but he was taking his sweet time enjoying every curve and dip of her body.

As she watched him in the mirror, her body thrummed with desire. His lips were sinfully indulgent as they brushed her skin, kisses here and there, a flicker of tongue, a little nibble. 

Her body was weak with need and little gasps were escaping from her mouth… and he hasn’t even touched her where she was burning hot. “Draco,” she pleaded but he continued to tease her, his fingers gently running along the swells of her buttocks, coming close to her core but then slipping away, squeezing and gripping her thighs instead. Frustrated with need, Hermione turned herself around and pressed her body up against his. The feel of his clothing under her soft naked skin felt deliciously rough. Her hands pulled his bow tie off with desperation. She wanted to feel him naked against her now. 

His hands cupped her bottom as he watched her, his long lashes casting shadows over his beautiful eyes. Her hands were clumsy as they tried to undo his buttons. He was simply wearing too much clothes. Frustrated, she grabbed her wand off the table and with a wave ripped the clothes off his body. He smirked as if pleased he had been able to get that violent response from her. 

Hermione threw her wand aside and grabbed either side of his face. She kissed him with the wild lust she felt inside. Draco lifted her up so that her legs could wrap around his waist and perched her on the edge of the table. His arousal was hard and pressed demandingly against his stomach. The contact of it against her drenched centre was enough to make him want to drive it in. Hermione tightened her legs around him, pulling him as close as she could while her mouth ravished his, drawing his tongue deeper into her mouth. Draco adjusted himself to her opening and thrust in. A gasp was torn from her lips and a groan from his. “Hermione, love, you are so hot and wet.” He began thrusting while her legs held him close as if wanting to get as much of him as in as possible. She clenched around his cock, moaning with need, gripping him every time he move. “You’re so fucking tight. If you keep gripping me like this, I don’t think I can last very long,” he groaned, pounding roughly into her sweet core. 

“But it feels so good,” Hermione cried, nails raking his shoulders as she felt the ripples of pleasure run through her body. She arched her body in against his, desperately wanting it deeper.

“I want you to see what I’m doing to you,” Draco growled. He flipped and bent her over the table. Hermione looked in the mirror and saw herself. Her breasts pushed up against the wood, her nipples were rosy hard and the wood felt rough and cool against them. Draco pulled her arms behind her. He grabbed his discarded bowtie and tied her wrists together. Hermione was startled but allowed him to take control. Parting her legs, he grabbed her hips and entered her again without warning. Hermione cried out. The reflection of herself, all mussed up, hands bound, and Draco’s beautiful tawny body taking her was too much. Her climax hit her hard and her body began clenching and convulsing around Draco’s cock. But he didn’t stop. He watched her experience her release through the mirror and pounded into her with harder strokes. The furniture, initially pretty sturdy, started to move and shake in rhythm to his thrusts.

Hermione watched him with hazy eyes as she recovered from her orgasm and moaned as her body started to respond again to the pleasure of his thrusts. Her hands bounded, could not touch him. She was completely vulnerable to his wants and that made her all the more so wet. His groans were like music in her ears. She felt pleased that she could draw out this almost animalistic need from him. Draco moved one hand from her hip and reached around to rub her sensitive clit and mercilessly pushed her over into her second climax. Hermione cried out, feeling stars behind her eyelids as she felt her body shatter harder against the wooden table again.

The grip and convulsion was enough to send Draco over the edge and as he pounded through her climax, he surged and emptied his seed into her body. His breath was ragged as he unbound her hands. She felt the press of his sweat damped face against her back.

Hermione didn’t even know how they made it to the bed as her body was feeling like a massive heap of jelly and Draco was clearly well spent. The bed, as promised, was really a whole new thing that Hermione has never experienced before. It felt as she was lying in a massive soft cloud. Every inch of her hot body felt soothed and cool against it and although her body was slick with her own and Draco’s wet fluids, the sheets seems to breathe through it all. There was really no comparison between this and their Hogwarts bed. 

Turning on her side, Hermione looked at Draco. His chest was still rising up and down as he tried to catch his breath. She gently brushed a sweat slicken lock of hair to the side of his face. He flipped over onto his side and grabbed her hand before she could pull it away. Bringing it to his lips, he kissed the sensitive inside of her palm. “Hermione Granger, how is it that I could take you again and again and still the only thing on my mind would be how much I want to fuck you?” His eyes rove over the curves of her body languidly as if taking her all in. “You couldn’t even possibly imagine all the things I want to do to you, some very depraved things,” his voice was husky and soft, his full lips form a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

Hermione felt heat creep over her body as her heart once again sped. It was as if his gaze was kissing and devouring her body and she too, also felt the need all over again. “I’m willing,” she whispered back. His eyes widen slightly to her response and she could tell he was pleased.


	21. Called Away

Just as Hermione had predicted, morning was glorious through the glass wall. She woke when the sun rose magnificently over the water. Shielding her eye, she sat up and looked out into the sparkling water. There was a sense of newness, wonder and possibility. Sprawl on his stomach, Draco looked every bit the innocent and Hermione couldn’t help but be mesmerized at how extraordinarily beautiful he looked touched by the morning sun. His hair made even lighter by the kiss of sun was practically a halo of light. His face was relaxed in his sleep. Her eyes travelled over his strong jaw, soft and plump lips, down his strong back, admiring the rolls of muscles, tapering down to his buttocks, which were hidden from view by the thin blanket that was pulled conservatively up to his waist.

He stirred in his sleep, eyes squeezing shut as if the sun was too bright and sleepily yanked the sheet over his head. Hermione lifted the sheet and tucked herself back under as well. He snaked an arm and grabbed Hermione around the waist, bringing her body up against his. Nuzzling her, his tongue came out to nibble on her ear lob. 

Hermione relaxed against him. “I’m hungry, Draco,” she said as her stomach growled achingly. The little entrees they served at the party was by no means a meal and after such a vigorous night, she wanted solid food. 

“As am I,” he whispered in her ear, his arousal was hard pressed against her bottom. 

Hermione’s stomach growled again. 

Draco stopped his nuzzling and pulled back the sheet. Hermione sat up and to her amazement, a table and two chairs were set up right in front of the glass wall. On the table two platters of toast, eggs, ham, potatoes, beans, fruit, yogurt and a variety of jam had appeared.

“How?” she asked bewildered.

“Sweets, you’re at The Hungry Wyvern,” Draco yawned, rubbing his eyes. “They anticipate your needs. You only need to say when.” He stood up, unabashedly naked, and Hermione blushed, roaming over the planes of his sculpted body, her eyes gravitating towards his still hard shaft. He walked over to the clothing rack, which hung two large fluffy robes. After slipping into one, he brought the other one over to Hermione. “As much as I’d like you to remain naked during breakfast, I do worry you might catch a cold,” he said as he helped her slip into it. 

They sat down at the table. Everything was still hot, delicious and perfectly seasoned. Hermione ate with gusto while Draco was more indulgent with his food, more often than not, taking little breaks to observe her eating. The teapot was fine china and would refill their cups whenever Hermione wanted more. It served them a type flowery orange tea that made Hermione feel all optimistic inside.

After she finished eating, she held her warm cup between her hands and looked at Draco. She knew this was something she’d never forget. Draco got up and took off his robe. Hermione’s jaw dropped as a large golden bathtub had appeared in front of the fireplace. It was steaming hot and full of bubbles. It boggled her mind how things keep appearing. She watched as Draco slip in. He grinned at her from where he was sitting and motioned for her to come over.

Hermione put down her cup and slipped her robe off. She was pleased when the smile dropped from Draco’s face as his eyes went dark, roving all over body. A moan escaped her lips as she got into the water opposite him. The water felt so good, hot and relaxing against her sore body. She closed her eyes and sighed with contentment. 

Draco grabbed her ankle and gently began massaging her calves. His hands moved up her legs until he could reach no further. Adjusting his position in the tub, he reached forward and pulled Hermione onto his lap. Hermione gasped as water spilled over the tub. Her body was slippery with soap against his. Draco’s hands were once again everywhere. 

“Hermione,” Draco said.

“Yes?” Hermione replied, she could hardly think as Draco was playing with her breasts.

“At some point,” he paused.

Hermione looked over her shoulders at him, concerned about what could possibly make Draco hesitate.

“I’d like for us to visit your parents, wherever they may be.”

Hermione’s heart stopped for a moment as she considered the meaning of his statement. She pressed her lips together. “Draco, it’s too difficult. I-I could seriously mess them up if I do something wrong.”

“I’m fairly skilled in Legilimency. I’m certain I can help you navigate through it,” Draco replied. “Even if you chose not to temper with their memories, then let’s find some way to reincorporate them into your life. They’re important to you.”

Hermione paused as she gave thought to Draco’s words. She turned and he bent his head down instinctively to kiss her gently. 

***

Hermione felt herself once again hesitant to return to Hogwarts, though this time, it was entirely different from her previous reason. It was because she enjoyed being away with Draco so much that she wished their little night away could have been extended. 

After getting out of the tub, they had gotten changed into some simple but clean clothes, as Draco’s damaged suit and Hermione’s glittery gown could hardly be something that they could return to school in. The new clothes had been laid on the bed. The magic of the place boggled Hermione and when she questioned Draco about it, he mumbled something about elf magic.

McGonagall awaited them at the entrance of Hogwarts, her lips pressed into a thin line and a fearsome scowl on her face.

“We’re both adults, Professor,” Draco muttered.

Hermione’s face was so pink that she was sure McGonagall knew exactly what they had done the night before.

“While you’re in my school, I would like you to abide by the rules that everyone is following,” she replied tautly. “You were to be back by ten this morning and it is now one in the afternoon. I remind you again that it was a privilege to leave the school!” With that she turned around and marched into castle. Hermione and Draco quickly followed her, silently giggling to themselves.

***

Upon returning to Hogwarts, Hermione was busy catching up with her schoolwork. Her mind kept slipping back to what Draco had said that morning in the bathtub. Her heart skipped with hope which she quickly then squashed with her worries. Over and over again she tormented herself until she could think of nothing else. She had experience the careful way Draco had entered her mind after the incident with Piddypumpkins and knew he was definitely gifted but to put it to work on her parents they would need to be extremely precise and with the utmost care. 

Hermione decided to distract herself by heading to the library to read as much as she can on legilimency and occulmency. To her disappointment, the topic appeared to be much frowned upon and limited information was provided. Disappointed but not discouraged, she decided that she would come back and go through the restricted section once the library closed. 

As she was leaving the library, she noticed a group of girls whispering and looking at her. Frowning, she approached them. 

“Is something the matter?” she asked coolly, head held high.

They shook their head but Hermione noticed the paper tucked under their arms. She snatched it with her wand before they could pull it away. Hermione stared at a picture of her and Draco dancing on the cover of The Daily Prophet. In big letters across the top ‘WAR HEROINE HERMIONE GRANGER SEEKS COMFORT IN BAD BOY DRACO MALFOY’. Hermione felt herself turn pink all over. She quickly turned on her heel and left the library, paper clutched tightly in her hand.

Sitting in the courtyard, Hermione read the article. Her face was burning as she read it. It was overall a pretty tamed and accurate article, except for the fact that it claimed that ‘Ronald Weasley was spotted wild with jealousy’ and on the next page, a picture of Ron walking angry back into the ballroom. Hermione looked at the picture of her dancing with Draco again. She had to admit, she looked happy in his arms.

“Ah, quite the celebrity, aren’t you Ms. Granger?”

Hermione jumped as she looked up at Piddypumpkins. Instinctively she drew back. He grinned at her but the volatile anger underneath was apparent. Before she could reply, he walked away. 

***

To Hermione’s dismay, the following day, Draco received word that Narcissa Malfoy was severely ill. Through the bridge, she walked him out to the apparition point. His face, normally calm and poised, was pale and taut with distraught. Hermione held him tightly as they kissed goodbye. 

“I promise to write,” he whispered against her hair.

After he disapparated, Hermione stood there in the dark for a while, feeling the emptiness take her. She felt for Draco and prayed that Narcissa was all right so that he could come back to her soon. 

***

For the next few weeks, Hermione’s days pasted by both slowly and yet also in a blur. She kept herself busy all day to distract from worrying about Draco. To her relief, she seemed to encounter Nott and Zabini at every turn. She had a feeling Draco had asked them to keep an eye on her. She was glad for their company, despite the little that they had in common, because they were the one link she had with Draco. The paper, which she had confiscated from the girls in the library, was placed on her bedside table so that she could look at it every morning and every night. She missed Draco in every aspect and much more than she thought she would. He had promised to write, yet she had not received anything.

One evening after supper, Hermione noticed that Piddypumpkins was leaving the Great Hall early. She didn’t know what came over her, but she found the urge to follow him.  
Even after weeks of following Piddypumpkins, his quatres were still elusive to her. Hermione had the feeling that she was going to find out tonight.

After she exited the Great Hall, she casted a disillusionment charm over herself. Hermione held her cloak close to her chest as to not make any sounds as she quickly followed after Piddypumpkins. Her heart nearly stopped when he looked over his shoulder. Frozen in place, Hermione tried her best not to move. 

When Piddypumpkins was satisfied that there wasn’t anyone behind him, he continued moving. Up and up he went on the moving staircase. Hermione quickly followed him, hopping onto one set of stairs and then another, always trying to maintain as much space between them while still being able to keep an eye on Piddypumpkins. 

He finally stopped in front of a suit of armor somewhere on the sixth floor. Hermione crouched closer to him, desperate to hear him as he says the password. Her heart was pounding in her chest furiously. Tapping his wand onto the knight’s sword, he whispered “coffee beans”. Hermione jumped as the suit of armor opened, revealing a narrow tunnel. She watched as Piddypumpkins enter it. As much as she wanted to follow him, she realized that it would be better if she waited until he wasn’t there. That way she could scout the place first.

**Author's Note:**

> Harry Potter is the works of J.K. Rowling, this is merely fanfiction. I do not own any of these characters!


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